The Waltz
by maxigrumpling
Summary: He's bored, lonely and longing. She's already made the decision to change her life. He sees her dancing alone, she's unaware. Their first introduction is a disaster. This is the story of how his public image might just lose him a chance to have it all and how he overcomes his personal demons to make her see the real Edward Cullen. Edw/Bella HEA. Jake lovers need not apply ;)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a short-ish (for me) story that just refused to go away. **

**There is a song, by a band called Milky Chance, and the song's title is Stolen Dance. **

**My fave radio station has been flogging it to death here and it's been stuck in my head for weeks. I lie in bed at night and run over the lyrics and one piece of it stuck with me. The part where the lovers dance is interrupted and he's imploring her to 'fetch back the time taken from us'. That struck a chord with me and this story is the result of my brain's reasoning. **

**The tenses are wrong in some parts as I'm still struggling with that after writing a few stories in different tenses, so I apologise for that. (Please don't point out where I've mucked it up, I'm aware of it and I'm already working on strategies to minimize how and why I do it.)**

**This is set in Australia, because I'm Australian ;)**

**I have changed some Aussie-ism's so that other ethnicity's will understand, but there are a few things that are purely Aussie. **

**I hope you enjoy it. **

* * *

**Edward**

I've heard and read, in many places and from many men, that they can pinpoint the exact moment – even the exact second – that their lives changed. Usually they are recounting the moment a child was born, the day they exchanged vows with their partner and sometimes even the day they bought that sports car or retired from whatever gainful employment they'd toiled at for decades.

I've listened to men in bars, clubs and gyms talk about the moments in their lives that have changed them spiritually, mentally and even physically.

I've watched movies and plays where the protagonists life unravels or is transformed from an existence into a life of worth when one of those significant moments happens.

And every time I've watched or heard those things I've thought to myself will that ever happen to me?

At thirty-seven I stopped wondering if it would and resigned myself to believing it wouldn't.

It wasn't as though I lived a boring or mundane life either. I had a great family, great friends. I lived in a very nice home and had money to burn. Professionally I had reached if not the top of my game then very close to it and personally I didn't think I lacked for much either.

Sure, my sister – younger by three years as my mother always pointed out with a creased brow - was married and popping out babies while I was, and again I'm quoting my mother, 'behaving like a perpetual bachelor, Edward'.

I hadn't actively looked for a partner or wife but neither had I closeted myself away so they wouldn't find me. I'd dated. I still went out socially with groups of peers and met others my age. I had a full calendar of social engagements to attend, any of which might put me in close proximity to 'the one'. But so far it hadn't. Well, it could have but I didn't see them. Or hear them. Or wasn't introduced to them.

I got to thinking that perhaps my business being so successful was that _thing_ that had changed my life and I was just being ungrateful or selfish for still searching for something else. Maybe my time had been and gone? Maybe I'd met my soul mate and hadn't realised and she'd moved on? Maybe the birth of a child, or the taking of vows, would never happen for me?

At thirty-seven perhaps I should've just been happy to be healthy, wealthy and possibly a little wise?

But that crease in my mother's brow grew deeper every year. The invitations to events where singles might attend, or were needed to even up the numbers at dinner parties, grew increasingly infrequent as pairs formed inside my social group. My sister stopped inviting me to meet her new single friends. My father stopped ribbing me about grandchildren. My grandmother began to sigh at the weddings of cousins and family friends when I attended alone.

It was a slow progression from wild nights at nightclubs 'with the boys' to nights spent pouring over contracts and tenders while the 'boys' stayed home with their wives and listened to the contented sounds of their child snuffling in its sleep.

Weekends away with friends 'for the hell of it' turned into business trips to the middle of nowhere to secure a contract to supply the mother load of steel reinforcing.

Friday nights weren't spent laughing and hollering in a bar while our team did its ass anymore and instead I read about the teams loss in the paper the next morning.

Movies were something I caught the last five minutes of after the financial news finished and less about popcorn and getting told to take my feet down off the back of the theatre seat in front.

I stopped waking the next morning after a friend's birthday party with a hangover that would fell an elephant and instead I woke wondering how the hell I was supposed to get the baby puke smell out of my good dinner jacket.

Meals were not about fuelling up before a big night anymore either. Now they were lessons in chemistry and mathematics designed to keep me trim without having to take time away from work to visit the gym.

Those annoying late night ads for life insurance and final expenses cover made me depressed because I knew I had nobody to leave anything to, or to provide for should I succumb.

The ads for hair loss and erectile dysfunction scared the piss out of me and then one would come on reminding me that in a few short years I'd need a prostate exam and then I couldn't piss at all with fear!

The shopping channel made me see just how clinical my life was. I would never need to buy jewellery for a woman 'just because' and I wasn't ever likely to want to snatch up a bargain priced bed linen package to brighten up my bedroom either. My entire home was chrome and black, just like the inside of my soul began to feel.

In short my life was lonely, work driven and I was bored. I was also being left behind by my peers.

I was professionally successful and personally devoid.

I went to the hospital benefit dinner because it was expected of me. I wore the dinner suit because my mother insisted. I used my grandfathers cufflinks because it made my father proud and I arrived in good time so that my mother could introduce me to all the eligible daughters of my father's colleagues, just as it was expected I would.

I bought the ridiculous voucher for a fortnights holiday use of the ski cabin knowing I'd never use it, then donated it back again after paying for it, because it's what Cullen's do.

I ate the dinner, which could've been roast placemat with a gravel glaze for all the notice I took of it and made polite conversation with the usual philanthropists at my parents table like I did every year. I drank no more or less than was socially acceptable. I danced with my mother and sister as was expected. I shook hands with those who could help my father and danced with the wives of those who could help me. I smiled when a business card was put in my hand and smiled again when I offered my own.

My only break from the mundane was my one and only vice.

I stood on the balcony of that reception centre and inhaled the sweet nicotine of the one and only cigarette I allowed myself daily. I watched the smoke tendrils twist and turn in the cool night air and closed my eyes to savour the flavour of what had once been a serious habit, but was now relegated to just the one after dinner lest I be seen as a social leper by the political correctness of the day.

My mother had given me her usual tut of displeasure as I announced where I'd be and what I'd be doing on that balcony. My father had nodded that he'd heard but offered no opinion, as ever. My brother in law ribbed me with his elbow and whispered how lucky I was to still be allowed to have that one cigarette and my sister ribbed him back, reminding him that he'd given that up years before and shouldn't still be craving it.

And so there I stood. On the balcony enjoying my one, solitary act of pleasure in an otherwise bland existence, when I spied an extraordinary sight.

There was a girl.

If she was tall or short, plump or slim I couldn't tell from the distance I spied her, but it was definitely a girl.

Her long dark hair told me so. It swayed as she swayed.

She was alone and swaying.

I tilted my head to hear better whatever music was playing for those that wished to dance and then looked back at the girl. She swayed exactly to the beat of the music. I doubted she could hear it as clearly as I could, but she kept perfect time all the same.

She looked so carefree, so ...I don't know what, but I was guessing she didn't feel like I did at that point.

I felt lost. Inadequate. As though there was some fundamental part of my make up that was missing or faulty because I couldn't seem to achieve what others were achieving.

But this girl. She looked content. Content enough and confident enough within herself to be outside, after dark, dancing alone.

And then she was gone inside beneath me and I was being dragged back in to be introduced to another of dad's cronies. The moment was lost, the spell broken, and I felt lesser for having not been able to watch her for longer.

The next introduction was swift, the handshake clammy. The man's daughter looked horrified to be palmed off on to me to dance and I must have looked equally horrified as I led her to the floor because my mother gave me a small smile that looked a little like an I'm sorry.

She danced like all the others. Her technique was that borne of years of insisted upon dance lessons and her smile was as forced as mine as we moved about the room. She offered her name, Anthea, I offered mine and when the dance was complete and the music had run its course we parted ways, happily.

As I was moving back toward where my parents stood I caught a glimpse of long dark hair and balked. I dashed to the foyer but I was too late, or the dark hair belonged to someone other than the swaying girl because all I saw in that foyer were others I knew to be attending the benefit.

For whatever reason I didn't think the girl was a guest at the party. I'd certainly not seen her inside the reception room, I'd have remembered her if I had. Maybe. My glimpse of her had been hardly earth shattering or defining. It was just a glimpse. A dark one at that.

Why I wanted to see her again wasn't a part of my reasoning at that point, and for whatever reason the memory of her gently swaying, so carefree, intrigued me enough to want to see her again.

But I didn't. Not once. For the rest of the evening I watched and waited to see her but I didn't. It was as though she was a figment of my imagination. An imagination that so desperately wanted me to have a life that it conjured a swaying girl in the moonlight for me to obsess over.

And I did obsess over it.

For days after the benefit.

Every dark haired woman I came into contact with – and there were plenty because let's face it, dark haired women are everywhere – I studied them to see if it could be her.

After three days my brain began to seek out hips as well as hair colouring. And that's just creepy. Especially for the women I was caught watching.

Twice I thought it was her and twice I was wrong. One wasn't tall enough but I reasoned that from the distance I'd spied her my mathematical brain could've been off by a foot or so, but no. The other was about the right height and had long, flowing dark hair, but she moved less fluidly than the girl I'd seen and so I ruled her out too.

After another week I gave up.

I gave up on the image just like I'd given up on ever having what my friends had.

I gave up on the idea of love, or companionship at the very least.

I gave up on the notion that life might just give me what I lacked.

So I did what I always had and threw myself back into my work and tried to convince myself that I should be content with that.

* * *

**A/N: So there you have sad-sack Edward's story. **

**Don't worry, he's not a mopey whiny pain the ass in this one ;)**

**Oh yes, the usual disclaimers apply. **

**I didn't write Twilight. SM owns the whole shebang. Blah blah blah. **

**And anyone who has a penchant for Jake sorry, you're shit outta luck here, again. **

**Please review. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Bella**

The bedlam in the kitchen was familiar and yet just as unwelcome to me as ever.

The heat was stifling, the steam uncomfortable and the bickering made my head ache.

And yet it was all perfectly normal for me too.

Jasper, my older brother, was right where he always was on nights like this. Hovering over his grill plates wielding his tongs like a gladiator's sword. Pressing, testing, and making sure that everything that came off those hotplates would be perfect.

Alice, his fiancé and my best friend since childhood, was right there too. Her back to his as she plated up what came off his grill with all the precision and flare of a plastic surgeon. She was a perfectionist just like he was and nothing would be served until Alice was one hundred percent sure it was one hundred percent perfect. For Alice presentation was key.

They were an unlikely pair to those who didn't know them well. They seemed to be polar opposites with Alice being outgoing and outspoken and Jasper being placid and timid. In reality they fit together like two Legos. The kind that refused to come undone and usually took a chunk of your skin with them if you tried to prise them apart.

Another unlikely pair were Mike and Jessica. They were as far apart in personality as a lion and a rabbit. How they shared the same parents and came out so different was beyond my ability for reason and well beyond my knowledge of genetics. But they did. And it was somehow worse because they were twins into the bargain. Mike was two minutes older than his sister and never let her forget it. Which of course made him feel superior and her all the more eager to prove that he wasn't. It made for some interesting squabbling as they cooked side by side, that's for sure.

The last member of the team that was Swan Catering was Lauren. Another two years younger than the rest of us and with the attitude of a pit viper she fit in about as well as a field mouse in a cattery. But Mike had been sleeping with her since he was a senior and she a junior in high school and where Mike went Lauren went. To have Mike onboard we had to have Lauren. In fact, to get Mike to do anything at all I had to pose any proposition to include her or he simply wouldn't do anything. If he wasn't so good at what he did I'd get rid of them both. But he was, so Lauren stayed on the books.

And that leaves me. Isabella Swan. Manager and smoother of tempers and all around dogs body. I took the bookings, ordered the ingredients, signed paperwork and made sure that everyone got fed at whatever function we'd been hired to cater for. At least that's how it had started out, this job of mine.

The idea had been Jasper's. Alice had been my friend since kindergarten but it wasn't until Jasper was in his junior year that he noticed she was a girl. A girl with breasts. A girl with breasts and a quirky, fun loving personality that made him happy and horny.

Alice loved to cook. Anything. Everything. If it was edible Alice wanted to know how to make it. So when she signed up for a cupcake decorating course over the summer Jasper enrolled too. I'd teased him mercilessly but he'd gone, done the course and gotten top marks.

And that, as they say, was the beginning of it all.

Jasper found two loves in that one summer. Alice and cooking. They were intertwined and nothing would separate his twin desires.

After he graduated he went straight to culinary school and the instant he had his diploma he used his inheritance from our grandmother to start what was known for a short time as Swan Catering but back then was called Jasper's Place. It was just a rundown diner that sat on the edge of the highway of our home town that he bought for a steal and sold for a considerable profit three years later when I came onboard and we took to the road.

I started working there in the summer, just a little something to give me some pocket money to go out with my friends if I wanted. I waited tables at first and once I'd mastered that in my clumsy state I started helping take orders and money behind the counter. The following summer Jasper got the flu pretty bad and Alice came in and took his place in the kitchen. She added her own flair to the menu and the actual diner – though the floral curtains didn't last long – and after Jasper's return she just stayed. So did I.

After graduation I went to university locally and I stayed on at the diner part time to help out as much as I could because he'd really made a serious go of the place and had even taken on more staff.

Once I'd completed my first year of accountancy I moved from the front of the diner to the back and spent my working hours making sense of my brothers chicken scrawl handwriting.

When the offer came for him to sell it was too good to refuse and so he took it and ran. He knew he'd never be happy doing anything other than cooking but the idea of diner food forever wasn't quite so appealing. He didn't have enough in capital to open a restaurant and even a cheap one that he could slowly renovate was out of the question so the idea was born that we take his talents in the kitchen and my talents for the books and we turned the profit from the diner into a fully fledged catering company.

We rented commercial space and turned it into a kitchen that we could do all the prep work in before transporting it to whatever venue the client had booked for their function.

We bought a van and as much equipment as we could afford and began advertising. It was slow going at first but within six months we had enough bookings to keep us busy for the rest of that year and a big problem. Every time we completed a job word would go around how talented Jasper and Alice were, and how good I was at planning and organising entire parties, and the jobs we were offered got more and more complicated.

Jasper advertised for kitchen help and found Mike and Jessica, who came as a team, and Lauren who came as a job lot. That rounded out the kitchen side of things nicely.

But I was still studying and as Jasper's business grew so did my list of responsibilities. Pretty soon I had no time for classes because I was haggling over table linens and trying to find a local supplier of seafood that wouldn't give the guests mercury poisoning. Something had to give. It was my degree.

At first I deferred for a year, which turned in to two, which turned into me abandoning it altogether when Swan Catering started being booked by groups upwards of two hundred guests every weekend of the year. That was when we changed the name to Swan Catering and Events and I became the full time events coordinator.

So here I am. A full time party planner and unqualified accountant, who paid wages, dealt with unruly clients and managed the bookings _and_ the kitchen of each and every function we cooked for.

While I couldn't say I loved it, and I couldn't say it was my calling like Jasper and Alice could say it was theirs, I did like it. And I was good at it. But I missed my classes and the thrill of the accounting problems from the lectures.

I'd swapped math problems for personality clashes and that was getting old. Seriously old, seriously fast.

The heat of the kitchen never did much to soothe the conflicting personalities and, in fact, it usually helped to keep the adversarial tempers present at odds with one another for the entire job.

My job was to make sure those tempers didn't collide until the last plate was served and all of the guests were happy.

And then, and only then, it was a free for all.

As soon as that last plate went across the pass aprons would be pulled free and slapped down onto counters and benches and the bickering would start.

Jessica had been too slow on the carving line. Mike had been three plates behind. Lauren was too fast. Alice too fussy. Jasper too surly.

It was always the same and it never ended. Each job was the same.

Everything would go like clockwork during service but the instant it was over everyone would find fault with everyone else and they'd argue about it until the function was over, the last plate returned to the kitchen and cleaned and stowed away and even after everything was back in the van and we were trundling along on a highway they'd still be fighting.

And for some reason I'd had enough.

This particular function had been a killer. Three hundred and seventy five people to feed four courses to in two hours which would have been bad enough but for this one I'd been asked to find a live band, organise all the floral centrepieces and to hire and manage coat check girls and the waiters and waitresses as well. The fee I'd charged had been astronomical and well worth the trouble in monetary terms but the hassle of this one job had rammed home for me just how far away from my own personal goals I'd strayed.

I didn't want to be a party planner.

I didn't want to be a kitchen manager.

I didn't want to source 'just the right height stems for the tables to not stifle conversation, dear'.

And most of all I didn't want to spend the rest of my life working for my brother. As much as I loved him I'd had plans of my own. Goals of my own. And none of them had revolved around him, or his business.

So, as the aprons hit those stainless steel benches and the first rumblings of tonight's argument began to pass over lips I made my escape.

Right through the middle of the steam filled kitchen I marched. I turned left out the door and went down the long, dirty dish filled hallway and right out through the delivery bay doors and out into the grounds.

As the cool air hit me I let out a long, satisfying sigh and made my way further and further away from that kitchen.

I followed the stone path until I came to a tree with a bench under it and then I closed my eyes and let out the breath I'd been holding.

"How did I get here?" I asked myself out loud, which was stupid because I'd put myself right where I was, hadn't I?

"How in hell am I going to get myself out of this?" I asked the night stupidly.

I had no clue how to change anything because I had no clue how I'd gotten to the point where I was in the first place.

No degree. No goals of my own. Certainly there was no man in my life because I didn't have time for one even if I did find one I was attracted to, which had only happened once in my twenty six years and even that had ended badly, I was never home enough to work at a proper relationship anyway.

My week days were filled with ordering and taking receipt of everything we'd need for functions held on the weekends. And then, at weekends, when everyone else my age was out socialising, I was _still_ working. Functions like we catered for were usually held on Friday or Saturday nights, so that's where I always was. At work. Working to further my brothers business.

I lived in an apartment in a complex with twenty other apartments with twenty other people who had no goals. I wasn't doing the job I wanted to do. I didn't have the social life I wanted to have. And all my hard work was putting money in my brother's pocket and making his business a success when I should've been working hard making my own mark.

I didn't resent Jasper for that. He'd never asked me, or told me, to take on the role I was working at, it had just happened. Like everything else in my life it just happened.

Deep in thought, lost to the depths of my own self made problems I began to sway to the soft sounds the band I'd hired were making upstairs in the function room. They really were quite good I thought as I swayed.

I closed my eyes and began to imagine the conversation I was going to have to have with my brother.

"I'll train a replacement," I whispered to myself, forming out loud the words I was going to lead with when I told him. "I won't go until I'm sure I've found the right person for you and they're good enough to do what you need them to do."

Yes. I'd find someone to take over most of what I did for the business and then I'd re-enrol in my course. I could work part time at the bookwork for the business and that would pay my mortgage while I went back to school. I had enough in savings to pay for the parts of my course I still needed to complete my degree and after that, when I was finally done with school, I could open my own accounting firm and take Jasper's business on as a client. Yes. That's what I wanted to do.

"Hey, sis," I hear shouted from the delivery doors.

I take one last deep breath of the clean, cool night air and then I go back inside and finish the job I'd started.

The others could bicker and argue all the way home if they wanted. I wasn't going to listen anymore because I'd come to a decision.

I was going to change my life.

* * *

**A/N: And there you have Bella's story. **

**Onward and upward now. **

**Thanks for reading. **

**Please review. **


	3. Chapter 3

**EPOV**

"The multinational Cullen Enterprises has added yet another feather to its cap with the acquisition of Equity Steel, despite concerns raised with the ACCC concerning Cullen Enterprises now owning a whopping 47% share of the Australian Steel market. When combined with its share of the export market and adding in its acquisitions of steel production plants both here in Australia and overseas, Edward Cullen owns and operates closer to a 57% slice of the steel mining pie.

Australian Competition and Consumer Commission spokesman Mr Garrett Strong defended the decision to allow the latest acquisition, despite community and industry concerns, stating that no other tenders were received for the flailing Equity Steel and with the smaller company now coming under the umbrella of the much larger, and liquid, Cullen Enterprises, the ACCC had to consider the loss of income, export and trade opportunities that would be lost should the steel industry lose yet another small business by allowing Equity Steel to go into liquidation. He is quoted as saying that 'The loss of income and export revenue to the North Queensland region alone should Equity Steel close its doors could have catastrophic results and as such the ACCC has not opposed its acquisition by Cullen Enterprises.' Consumer watchdogs no doubt continue to monitor the rise and rise of Edward Cullen, CEO and major share holder of what is now the country's largest steel manufacturer and exporter, as he ruthlessly swallows up yet another competitor in his attempt to rule the steel mining world."

"What a load of bullshit," my brother in law Emmett McCarty spat after I'd finished reading him the article in the mornings newspaper. "You have to let me do something about your public image, man."

"No," was my simple answer. It always was. I was a businessman and it didn't and shouldn't matter whether I was a nice guy with a wife and two point four children or a monster who kicked puppies in my spare time. I ran a business, a very successful one, and I employed thousands. That should be enough.

As the head of public relations, with a damn fine mind for marketing as well, Emmett had been at me for years to have a more public presence. A better one than the one I had currently anyway. I'd always balked and I always would. Didn't stop him trying though.

"One week you're being praised for being a major employer, the next you're the big bad wolf using your nasty fangs to eat another dead in the water company. One interview," he begged, as usual. "Anyone who knows you knows you aren't trying to rule the steel mining world," he chuckled. "Maybe a little corner of it, but not the whole thing. Let me get that message out there."

"Maybe a little corner," I conceded with a chuckle of my own. "And the only message that needs to come from this office is that I'm here all the time working hard to make sure that my employees are still employed. That's it."

He was shaking his head but we'd had this conversation so many times now that he knew not to pursue the idea of an interview. "Okay," he conceded, but I could see the wheels in his head turning so I waited for what was to come next. "Equity Steel ceases being Equity Steel in a few weeks time, right?" he asked and I nodded. "Normally we just change the name plates on everything, insert some key personnel to make sure the previous owners don't make off with assets, issue everyone Cullen uniforms and continue trading as normal. Why don't we do it differently this time?"

"How differently?" I asked.

"Publicly," he said with a smirk.

I hated that smirk. It meant he was trying to get something by me. It meant he had something cooking and didn't want to share it fully yet, knowing I'd shoot it down. "More," I said, knowing it would be all I'd need to say to get him to give me more information. We knew each other well enough by now. He'd been the closest thing I'd ever had to a brother since high school and he'd been my actual brother since marrying my sister eight years ago. We didn't need a lot of words.

He took a moment to think on the way to present whatever idea he had cooking to me and when he turned around to face me, leaving his place by the windows, the smirk was in full force. Dimples and all. I hated the smirk...but I loathed the dimples.

"Gladstone's tiny," he stated simply, referring to the town that was home to Equity Steel. "I'd bet my left nut nothing big ever happens there. So hows about we give them something big. Hows about Cullen Enterprises puts on a big thing and welcomes the new little brother to the family?"

"A big thing?" I asked, skeptically.

"Yeah," he mused as he went back to the windows. "Throw a party. A big party. Invite every single Equity employee, and their families too, kids and wives, girlfriends and boyfriends and all, and show them a good time. Show them that their jobs are safe. That you aren't interested in breaking up the assets of what you've just bought. Show them, and everyone else, that you're willing to spend money in town. Show them that you're their big, bright new shiny best friend instead of the guy who's quite possibly just bought their futures to wield as you see fit."

"I've never said I'd break the company up," I protested. "Why would I buy a perfectly decent operation and then break it up? I can just issue an internal statement and tell them all that their jobs are safe. I don't need to buy them a beer and pretend to be their friend."

"So don't pretend," he barked. He turned and I could see the fire in his eyes. Why it was there I had no clue, but I was guessing I was about to find out. I wasn't wrong.

"The press present you as a ruthless, heartless bastard, Edward. The Equity employees only have that version of you to go on. They'll be frightened and worried about whether or not they're going to have a job come the end of the month. You won't let me give the press any other impression of you and so you continue to be seen this way," he raged.

I could see and hear the frustration coming from him and I sighed before answering. "But a party? I'm no good at parties. I don't mix well. I'd have to go alone and that never looks good. I hate the food. I hate the music. I hate the dancing," I grimaced. "God I hate the dancing. And if there're kids allowed to come along they'll all be loud and obnoxious and puke on things. I can't handle that."

"You're so full of shit," Emmett whispered as he came back to opposite my desk and took his regular seat. "Firstly, I said a party, not a benefit. Second, you'll mix just fine because you won't be in a tux. Third, go alone, who gives a shit? Nobody knows anything about you personally so if you want to you can just say that your significant other is away and couldn't attend. But personally nobody gives a shit if you're attached or not. And as for the food, Jesus Christ Edward, you'd think I was talking about making you eat live grubs. We'll throw a party with hot dogs and ice cream for the kids. Hell, we'll have one of those candy bar table things set up and the little buggers can eat their body weight while the parents meet you. And if they puke, well, then they'll puke in their parents cars on the way home. Jesus," he spat as he got to his feet again. "There's nothing wrong with trying to show the world that you aren't actually what you seem to be."

"And what do I seem to be? Other than a ruthless business man?" I asked.

"Cold, Edward," he sighed. "You seem cold."

His statement was shocking to me.

I'd never thought of myself as cold before. Perhaps standoffish, possibly even a little anti social lately, but I didn't like the idea that others thought me to be cold. I was about to reply, but was cut off.

"Things can't go on as they are for much longer. The whole country thinks you're some sort of reclusive monster. It'll start to affect your bottom line soon. People aren't going to want to be associated with Cullen Enterprises if the guy who owns the show has a bad public image. Throw a fucking party in the little town you've just turned on its ass. Make nice for a few hours. Show anyone who wants to see that you're just a guy who's good at what he does. Show them all that you care about their wages, their kids and their mortgages. Show the whole fucking world that you're more than what you seem to be!"

His tone had changed from frustrated Public Relations Manager to that of concerned brother and I was left with no other option than to agree.

"Okay," I said quietly.

"Okay," he replied, just as quietly.

He made to leave. The discussion over. And I was prepared to let him go, leaving everything as it was but he turned at the door and faced me.

"I know you aren't cold," he said carefully. "The family know you aren't cold. I won't let this become a media spectacle but I will use the media to get the message out there."

I nodded, thankful that he'd clarified his own thoughts about me. "I'll do whatever you need me to do, Em."

"Thank you," was all he said as he left.

**BPOV**

Angela grimaced as she stuck her head around my door. "I have Esme Cullen on line two for you," she whispered as I set my bookwork aside.

"Christ," I moaned and nodded to Angela that I'd take the call.

I had two weeks left with Swan Catering and Events and I didn't want or need another booking from Esme Cullen in that time. Angela was a quick learner and was going to make a fine replacement when I left, but jobs the size of anything Cullen might make her turn and run for the hills this early in the game. I didn't want to spook her.

"Good morning Mrs Cullen, how can I help you today?" I asked as I took up the call.

"Good morning Bella!" she trilled in her lovely velvet voice. "I have a very special job for you my dear."

I closed my eyes and silently cursed my luck. "Swan Catering is undergoing some staff changes right now, Mrs Cullen. I'll put you back to Angela Weber, she's taking over from me and she'll be happy to take your booking and to talk to you about your needs for your next benefit."

"No!" she screeched just as I reached for the phone console to transfer the call to Angela. "No," she said more calmly. "It needs to be you, Bella. You know us so well and this isn't another benefit. This is something quite different."

"I'm sorry, Mrs Cullen, but I don't have the time left with the company to take on another job personally. Angela really is very good and I'm sure she'll throw you a wonderful um, whatever it is you're throwing."

"I see," she sighed. "Put me back to Ms Weber then."

She'd reverted to 'Ms Weber' so I knew she wasn't happy. I felt awful shutting her down like I did, but I'd been truthful. I didn't have long enough left with Jasper's company to do another Cullen 'do'. I pressed the buzzer to alert Ange that I was transferring the call back to her and then went back to my bookwork.

I didn't hear another thing about the call, or whatever the booking ended up being, until later that afternoon. I had my head in a ledger and was chewing on my pen lid when the knock came at my office door. It was odd for Ange to knock so I simply called for her to come on in. I didn't look up until I heard my name in a voice that wasn't Angela's.

"Good afternoon, Bella," Esme Cullen smiled as she came right into my office and plonked herself down into the chair that faced my desk.

"Mrs Cullen," I stammered, hurrying to push the loose strands of my hair back into its unruly ponytail. I threw my pen down onto the ledger and attempted to look less startled than I was.

"Esme, please," she insisted for the millionth time since she'd been using Swan Catering. "Now, let's talk about this party that needs throwing," she giggled as she drew her appointment planner from her Prada bag.

"But Angela will need to be..." I began but was waved off from finishing by the flourish of one impeccably manicured hand.

"I've spoken with Angela, lovely girl, but I've made it clear to her, and to your brother, lovely boy, that I will only hand over this work to the company if this particular party is handled by you, and only you. Angela will take over my business with the benefits for the hospital in due course, but I need your particular prowess to pull this party off."

"I don't have the time. I finish up in two weeks..." I trailed off again when she arched her eyebrow at me.

"Plenty of time," she smiled. "Seeing as you are leaving us at the end of the month, and I want it noted that I'm not happy about that at all, I've moved my party to then," she said matter of factly as she placed her planner on the edge of my desk and pointed a fingernail at the date that had been circled in bright red pen.

It was my last day. My last ever day as the coordinator. My last ever day planning parties and benefits. My last ever day that I'd need to be referee for the band of misfits that made up Swan Catering.

All I could do was sigh as I too pulled my appointment planner from under a stack of invoices and opened it to the same weekend she had hers open at. We had one other booking that weekend and as luck would have it, or as my damn rotten luck went, it was a very small christening morning tea on the Sunday. The Saturday was blank. Empty. Bugger.

"Ah, I see you're free. That's worked out nicely then," she smiled. "This one is a little different for me so I'm going to let you have total control," she went on as she pulled a sheaf of papers from her bag and held them out to me across the desk. As I looked them over she spoke.

"My son, Edward, has absorbed a small steel company up in Queensland. Gladstone to be precise, and he's wanting to throw a party there for all his lovely new employees. A sort of welcome to Cullen Enterprises kind of thing."

I'd heard of Edward Cullen and had wondered if he was any relation, seems he was. I'd also heard that he was a hard assed, ruthless bastard who chewed up and spat out little companies for fun. I wasn't sure I wanted to throw a little party for a bastard like that.

"The party will need to be early afternoon as there will be children of all ages attending," she went on as I read over the list of invitees and how many 'plus wives and children' were listed. "We're hoping everyone will come but can't guarantee exact numbers at this point. But somewhere in the region of four hundred, four hundred and fifty I think will be about right."

"That's awfully big," I mumbled as my brain started worrying about what sort of venue I was likely to be able to find at such short notice that could hold those sorts of numbers, numbers that included children at that.

"It is I'm afraid," she sighed as though she'd thought of the same issues I had. "But a venue isn't a problem as the site of the factory has the perfect space for it. The issue, I'm afraid, is going to be amusing all those people for a whole afternoon. Especially the children."

"I see," I said, because I did see the problem. I'm not good with children. Or most adults either. Or adults and children together. Or bored, hungry children with adults who are plastered on free booze. Damn.

"A few ideas have been tossed around about how to amuse them, but you'll be able to talk to my son in law about that when the time comes," she said matter of factly. "If we are in agreeance that you'll personally do the job I'll give him your details and the rest can be worked out with him?" she asked as she stood, staring down at me.

"And if I say no?" I asked, staring up at her.

"I'd like to think that we've become friends, Isabella," she said, using my full name to much affect, "So I'm asking you to do this job, this one last job, for me, as your friend, before you go off and do whatever it is you're going to do next."

I was about to answer and tell her that I'd do it when she spoke again.

"Turn to the last page, dear," she told me and as I did she paused to let what I was seeing sink in. "Quite a working budget, isn't it?" she giggled as I goggled at the number.

"Yeah," I drawled, less than professionally.

"I'll personally throw in another ten percent for _you_ personally, as a bonus, if you do this for me," she quipped as she pulled her handbag onto her forearm. "Are we in agreeance then?"

"Deal," I said as I stood and held out my hand across the desk.

"I thought so," she chuckled and shook my hand. "I'll miss our little meetings," she said as she made to leave my office. "I do hope your brother appreciates what he's letting go by letting you leave," she said as she reached my door. "Emmett, that's my son in law, will call tomorrow morning. Thinking caps on, Bella," she giggled as she left.

I was left there, at my desk, still staring down at all the zeros on the last page as she closed my office door. And another ten percent for me! It was enough to pay my mortgage for six months _and_ buy all the books I'd need for my course.

"Holy shit," I laughed as I sat back in my chair.

"She's awesome!" Ange shouted as she burst through my door a second later, catching me laughing my head off at both my misfortune and my unexpected windfall.

"She sure is," I laughed. "Go and get your book, we've got work to do," I told her as she skipped back out again.

**EPOV**

"Are you sure about this, Rosie?" I asked as I stared at myself in the mirror.

"Everyone wears them," my sister assured me as she threw a shirt at me.

"Everyone wears them," I mimicked sarcastically as I stared at myself in a pair of jeans.

"Well, everyone who's normal wears them," she laughed as she came to my side. "You used to wear them. I remember. Trust me, Edward, you won't look like a yob but you won't look like the big bad boss man either."

"Why can't I look like the big bad boss man? I am their boss. I don't want them to think I'm one of them because I'm not," I pouted as I pulled off my crisp white business shirt and exchanged it for the pale blue button down.

"Spoken like a true snob," she chuckled as she withdrew a belt from one of her carrier bags. "They'll know you're the boss, so don't worry about that. But you want them to feel comfortable talking to you, or approaching you, all the same. So jeans and a casual shirt for an afternoon party are just right. Trust me," she said again as she handed me the belt.

"And the men will be dressed just like this?" I asked as I looked at myself again. The shirt was undone at the top two buttons and apparently I wasn't allowed a tie or cufflinks so I'd just done up the buttons at my wrists.

"No, they won't. They'll be dressed like this," she said as she began to undo the buttons again. I watched as she folded the cuffs back on themselves over and over until the now puckered cloth rested at my elbows. "There. Much more casual."

"Much," I sneered. I felt like a yob and a fake.

"Now for the shoes," she announced as she skipped back over to the bags on my bed. She returned with a box and I cringed as I saw the logo on its side.

"You're kidding," I protested as she handed me one of the trainers.

"I'm not. You'll need to wear these around the house and the yard everyday for the rest of this week and next so they scuff up a bit too."

"Shall I take up jogging so they look suitably worn?" I scoffed.

She patted my stomach condescendingly and laughed. "Nah, no need. You still got the abs of a teenager," she chuckled.

"Are we done here then?" I asked as I undid the belt.

"You just need to decide what to do about your hair," she said as she began stuffing things back into the bags.

"What's wrong with my hair?" I asked self consciously running a hand through it.

"I'll send Jenn over to the office tomorrow, she'll sort it out."

"What's wrong with it?" I asked again.

"Nothing's wrong with it exactly," my sister sighed, tilting her head to one side and staring at me. "It's just...well, um...it kind of looks like you've spent three hours this morning mussing it up just so. I know you haven't," she said as she waved a hand at my protesting look. "It just looks like you have. Get it cut a bit shorter, maybe get it layered. I don't know exactly, which is why I'll send Jenn to the office."

"I don't want my hair cut," I said sulkily.

"You don't want to wear jeans either but you're going to."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"So I'll see you at dinner tomorrow night?" I asked as I walked her out of my room and down the hall towards the front door.

"I haven't missed a Friday night family dinner in forever, unlike some," she giggled before kissing me on my cheek as a goodbye.

"I'm only missing if I'm away."

"Which is a lot."

"Which is necessary."

"Which is a cop out. I'm sure you schedule those business trips specifically for Fridays so you don't have to go."

"I'm sure you do believe that," I laughed.

"Asshole."

"Bitch."

"Love ya."

"Love you too."

I watched her get into her car, buckle her seatbelt and go down my drive before I went back inside and stared down at the pristine white Nike trainers on my feet. "Trainers," I scoffed and headed back through the house to the back decking and then down into the yard.

**BPOV**

"A fun fair?" he asked, his dimples on full show.

"A fun fair," I said again and waited for his reaction.

"We've got the room I suppose," he said more to himself than to me.

"Plenty of room."

"Can it be pulled together in time?"

"I can make it happen," I said cockily, knowing full well I'd already booked half the attractions already.

"It'd be great for the kids," he agreed. "But what about the adults? What will they do while their little ones are busy?"

"Eating, drinking, dancing and generally being carefree while their new boss picks up the tab," I laughed.

"I'd go for that," he laughed too.

Emmett McCarty, Esme Cullen's son in law, was a huge man but he had the impish air of a little boy playing dress up as a man. I liked him instantly. I also knew that though he may look and sound like an excitable little boy he was anything but. A quick internet search proved that to me. He was the head of public relations at Cullen Enterprises as well as wearing the hat of Marketing Director. He was also the boss's brother in law. He had clout.

"What about the food and drink? Where are we on that?" he asked as he continued to look over the outlined plans I'd drawn up for our first meeting.

I shuffled my own stack of papers and quickly reread the name of the woman I needed to refer to. "I've spoken with Claudia at Equity and she's given me a list of what alcohol was served, and preferred, at the last company Christmas party and I've gotten a list of the ages of the children likely to attend and have catered for them accordingly. As for the adults," I said as I slid another page across the desk towards him, "I've stuck with fun fair foods, just in larger quantities and with a bit more of an adult twist on them."

"Nice," he grinned as he looked down the list of things Jasper and his crew would be making. "I love all this stuff," he chuckled as he read. "What about entertainment for the adults?" he asked next.

"I've booked two bands. They'll set up at opposite ends of the property so they won't clash even though they're quite different. There'll be an open bar so I've booked enough wait staff to cater for that and have arranged for the area to be suitably roped off. That'll give it a more secure feel, as well as giving the drinkers the feeling of being in a pub. Sort of."

"Awesome," he grinned. "What's this?" he asked, pointing at the bottom of one of the pages.

"That's an expression of interest booking for an inflatable outdoor cinema screen," I told him smugly, knowing he was going to love the idea.

"What's that?" he asked.

"It's what it says it is. The company I've chosen will bring along a nine by sixteen feet inflatable movie screen. They set it up, screen whatever we choose, then pack it up and take it away again. I've tentatively arranged for a shipping container filled with suitable bean bags for the outdoors to be delivered on the day and we can host up to two hundred viewers at a screening. It'll even work during the day, so we can offer more than one screening, or more than one showing of the same film."

"Jesus, you are good. Mom was right," he laughed.

"Thank you," I say sweetly. "So do I have your go ahead to confirm the bookings?"

"Do it," he said immediately. "I love it. All of it. This is just what we need."

"Excellent," I say and offer my hand across the desk to seal the deal. "Can I ask a question before you go?"

"Sure," he tells me as he gathers his things.

"When your company buys another company they don't usually throw a big party, do they?"

"Nope, this is a first," he admits.

"Why this company then?" I blurt.

He tilts his head to the side as though he's musing on his answer and then he grins, dimples and all. "You heard of my boss Edward Cullen?" he asks and I nod. "Have you ever met him?" he asks and I shake my head no. "Without having ever met him what is your impression of him?"

I balk. I can't tell him I think his boss is an unfeeling bastard, at least I don't think I can. I'm about to reply when he laughs. Heartily.

"See? That there?" he laughs, pointing at my open mouth. "That reaction right there is what it's my job to counteract. He takes over companies and everyone assumes he sacks everyone, rips it apart and has no trouble sleeping at night. A party with the employees of his newest company might change that opinion. That's where I come in, and now you."

"I see," I manage to say as he moves to the door.

"I'll talk with you again in a few days. You have my card so call my secretary anytime and she'll make out any checks you need to pay the deposits for everything. Thanks, Bella, talk soon."

And with that he was gone and I was left standing in the middle of my office wondering why Cullen Enterprises would spend so much money just to make the boss look like a nice guy.

**EPOV**

"Look at you!" my mother crowed as she came into my hotel room.

I didn't know whether what she was seeing was a good me or a bad me but she folded me into her arms as she always did and kissed me firmly on the cheek before letting me go and stepping back to look me up and down.

"You look much more relaxed like this," she said as she moved around me. "And your hair is nice a little shorter too."

"I hate it," I moaned unhappily. And I did hate it. It no longer flopped across my face and I felt as though I had nowhere to hide now.

"You'll get used to it," she told me in her mothers voice. "Now, I want you to be nice to Isabella when I introduce you. She's worked really hard to make this happen but I don't want you to treat her like an employee either. She's become a friend to me, and to your father too, and this was a big task we set her."

"I'll play nice with your little friend, mom," I half joked.

"Emmett likes her too you know," she admonished, as though Emmett's seal of approval would make me any more inclined to behave differently towards this girl. "And she's come all this way, at such short notice, to make this all happen for you, so think about that when you meet her please."

"You speak about her as though she has some horrible disfigurement and I should remember to mind my manners and not stare," I chuckled. "I do know how to play nice with other children you know."

"Yes, well," mom tutted, "I just wanted to remind you how hard she's worked to pull this off."

"Alright," I agreed, pulling away, fed up with her tugging and pulling on my clothes and hair like I was five.

"Okay, well, we're leaving in ten minutes if you want to come with us," she said as she backed away.

"I've got my own vehicle," I tell her as I reach for my wallet and the rental keys. "And yes, Seth will be right behind me," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Suit yourself; we'll see you there then."

And with that she was gone and I was alone again. Staring at a version of myself in the mirror that I didn't recognise. "Trainers," I hissed once more for good measure. "You can do this," I remind myself. "This is just like any other publicity stunt. You put your mask on, you say and do the right things and everything falls into place. Just be anyone other than yourself," I tell myself.

**BPOV**

**6 hours before the Fun Fair is to begin**

"I need you to get at least another six tables for this area here," I tell Eric, one of the guys I hire regularly to be the muscle on jobs like this, and who was good enough to cancel his other plans and make the trip with us. "And can you get Riley to grab another six or so pieces of the security fencing and tighten up that line by the bouncy castle please."

"On it, boss," Eric calls as he bounds away to do my bidding.

If only those in the makeshift kitchen were so compliant I think to myself as I take another lap of the area, checking things off my list as I go.

The bigger rides like the dodgem cars and the giant slide were delivered and set up the day before, and they came equipped with their own operators too, so there was nothing there that needed my attention.

The small sideshow alley complete with shooting gallery, laughing clowns and milk can toss I hired from the same amusement firm so they too came with their own attendants. They were all set up, the rows of prizes hanging from hooks at the front of each caravan, and didn't need my attention either. I'd settle up the bill for the prizes won at the end of the hire agreement.

I'd had another small section roped off for the older kids and in it now stood two dozen arcade games. A van housing a portable generator sat nearby. All the games themselves were up and running, check. The associated cables were all taped down safely too, check.

I checked in quickly with the two local girls I'd hired to do face painting and they looked set up and good to go when the time came too. They were heading back in to town for some lunch and promised to be back by opening time. Check.

I sidestepped around the gated enclosure for the animal petting zoo, I wasn't keen to get animal muck on myself and nor was I interested in being told the many attributes of the baby bunnies _again_. Malcolm, a guy I'd found online by a simple search, was a well known local who kept all manner of farm animals and regularly took them to the schools in the area. He had a working with children card and even though he smelled of dung his reputation was solid.

Nowhere on his website did it say that he'd talk your ear off for forty minutes as he set up his enclosures though.

But he was there, as were his animals, and so I gave that a check on my list too.

It was with some relief that I checked on the portable bathrooms next. It was a serious testament to just how creepy Malcolm was that checking the set up of toilets was a much better prospect for me than to be stood standing talking to him.

Six, forty feet long portable buildings stood in two rows of three right up against the fence at the very back of the property. They were fully self contained bathrooms, three male and three female, and I'd rented them complete with a cleaning crew who would – for the cost of a few beers and a hamburger for their dinner – clean and restock them every hour on the hour until I told them to stop.

I checked in on the few concession stands I'd hired and found everything set up and in good order there too.

Jasper hadn't been keen to bring too many of our usual workers with us for the long trip north. The cost was prohibitive for a start, and secondly there were plenty of locals registered for casual work in the area.

So I'd hired a cotton candy machine, popcorn machine and a snow cone maker for the day and then hired nine locals to take turns running them during the afternoon.

They'd all arrived on time, amazingly, and they'd all had a practise at their respective machines and I could personally attest that what they made was very tasty.

I moved to the back of the property to take a look at the progress of the bar and eating areas and liked what I saw. Two enormous open sided tents sat parallel to each other and both of them were set up with hired tables and chairs in plain white.

The bar area was portable but still functional and dare I say it a little bit classy. I'd sourced all the alcohol from local merchants – working in with Emmett's insistence to keep things low key but safe to ingratiate Cullen Enterprises into the local community economy – and was using local casual workers to staff that too. The only exception was Paul Uley. He'd run many a bar for me over the years – and headed up security for me too - and I trusted him implicitly to keep a good eye on the young men and women who would be serving and clearing away during service.

He tipped an imaginary hat and gave me a 'thumbs up boss' as I moved by and into the catering tent.

Jasper always set up his own kitchen, no matter the job, and I was happy to have at least that task off my list of so many. As usual he had everything running like clockwork.

Huge vats of bubbling concoctions were on portable gas burners at the very back, away from anywhere where the public would be moving. Gigantic trays of pies, pastries, and sausage rolls sat in rows ready to go into the enormous gas fired ovens we'd hired for the day.

Sausages were being skewered onto sticks by an army of kitchen hands at one of the collapsible counters we'd rented and at another long bench Alice was icing hundreds of cupcakes decked out in Cullen Enterprise colours.

Jessica and Mike were side by side at the huge prep station to the side and they were both making pretty quick work of shredding what looked like a tonne of lettuce heads. I assumed they were for the burgers that Jasper would soon begin turning on his massive grill plates.

"How goes it out there?" I hear from my brother as he comes towards me, arms laden with the aforementioned burger patties in their trays.

"All looks on track as far as I can see," I tell him and take the top two trays and set them on the counter for him. "On track here?" I ask.

"That cold room's taking an age to come down to temperature but it should be right by the time I need to start stacking stuff in there," he tells me with a nod towards the cold storage room on its trailer parked over by the back of the tent.

I look over my clipboard pages to find the name and number of the guy we'd hired it off. "I've got his mobile number so I'll give him a call and get him out here to check it out just in case," I tell Jasper who nods his agreement. "Other than that do you have everything you need?"

"Lauren!" he shouts to his left.

"What?" comes the usual screeched reply. No 'yes boss' or 'yes chef' for our Lauren.

"Have you got all those ribs in yet?" he shouts back.

"Last tray going in now," comes the reply.

With a smile at me Jasper assures me that everything food wise is coming together on time. I thank him and head back out to check on the other attractions.

The inflatable cinema is only halfway inflated but we still have a few hours yet and the operator assures me he'll be ready for the first screening scheduled for 3 pm.

I'd decided on three separate screenings. 3 pm, 5 pm and a last one after dark starting at 8 pm. We were showing How to train your Dragon 2 as the first film which should attract quite a few of the children, making the lines for the rides and other attractions a little shorter for the length of the film. I hoped.

Second screening would be Frozen which should sort out another good portion of the smaller kids while the bigger ones got their turn on the rides.

There was to be a fireworks display at 7.30pm which should mark the time at which most of the really small children would be taken home for bed, leaving only the older ones and their parents to watch the last movie of the night. Any Which Way but Loose was an all time favourite of both mine and Alice' and I hoped that the older crowd would love to see it again on a big screen, and the younger ones who hadn't seen it before I hoped would like it too. We'd soon find out. It was mainstream enough, and only a little bit violent, and it had been approved by Emmett so I was off the hook if anyone had any issues with it.

Behind the projectionists van was a huge shipping container. I leant against the low brick wall that ringed what we'd turned into the outdoor cinema and watched an army of hired hands march a hundred and fifty bright red outdoor bean bag chairs down the slope into rough lines for viewing.

There were another fifty or so sling backed deck chairs lined up behind the bean bags and behind that I'd invited a small local winery group who would be serving a selection of their best selling wines, to adults only of course.

The popcorn machine had been running nonstop all day to make five hundred bags of pre-popped corn specifically for our movie theatre and by all accounts they would be finished in plenty of time too.

With everything in order as far as I could tell I took the chance to head back to the hotel and shower and change before what was going to be a hell of a last job with Swan Catering and Events.

**EPOV**

Holy fucking hell!

That was my first thought when I saw what up until yesterday had been the holding yard of my newest company.

It didn't look like a holding yard now though. It looked like a carnival. A seriously huge carnival. A writhing sea of activity. There were people rushing about left and right, most of them with arms full of boxes of...well of what I couldn't say, but their arms were all holding something as they ran about.

I parked my rental undercover at the front of the administration building and went for a look at what this Isabella had set into motion on my behalf.

I felt a total dickhead wandering about in jeans and trainers but I had little choice. My idiotic public relations manager deemed it appropriate attire and that was that. So I trudged across a paddock that had been divided into neat rows, each one bearing a brightly coloured poster at the end of it. I guessed this would be the parking area and gave a mental nod to whoever came up with the idea of numbering the rows.

The first thing that hit me as I approached the actual carnival was the smell. A mixture of grilled meats, animal feed and cotton candy. It smelled of boyhood fun at the Royal Easter Show.

I went right on through what was obviously going to be the central entry point and took a quick look at the set up there. Two tables, one on either side of the middle aisle, had a clipboard with the names of my employees typed neatly and in alphabetical order on it. Markers and coloured wrist bands were in boxes on the ground on either side. A quick peek at the lists and I could see that the wrist bands were for the under 18's. It looked very professional, just as the carpark had.

I walked down an old fashioned sideshow alley and grinned at the thought of firing one of the air rifles and knocking a shiny metal duck off its perch for a prize. Vendors were still setting up the stuffed toys and cap guns in their plastic packaging but took no notice of me as I wandered along looking in here and there.

Tables covered with paints, brushes and what looked like tubs of moist baby wipes sat next to a small cloth gazebo that boasted a sign saying 'party bags'. The paints I understood, face painting for little kids. The other tent intrigued me though. What on earth a party bag was I had no clue.

I stepped inside and saw box after box of striped bags all bearing the Cullen Enterprise logo and all stuffed full to the brim with small toys and sweets. Nice touch I thought as I moved into the next row.

Here there was an enormous bouncy castle in the shape of a tiger. Its huge inflatable jaws open and waiting for the first screaming child to rush headlong inside.

Giant slides, those electric cars designed especially for crashing and bashing, and a huge inflatable paddling pool that contained giant clear plastic balls were all set up, their lights flashing in readiness. The operator informed me that kids could get inside the balls and float around, crashing and bashing against their friends in other balls. I was assured that it was great fun and it looked it.

The next row over had smaller children's rides. A cup and saucer just like the one at Disneyland. A ball pit and a small ferris wheel. There was a small merry go round with brightly painted horses and carriages on their poles just waiting for the screams of excited little people. At the very end of that row was a miniature golf course complete with a water hazard and sand trap. Tiny gold clubs and brightly coloured golf balls were lined up ready and waiting to go too.

It was marvellous!

I wanted to be a child again and have a go on everything, over and over too.

I thanked each of the operators for coming as I went back the way I'd come and made my way towards the delicious smells. I saw a cotton candy making machine and a snow cone machine already churning its icy liquid round and round. Just beyond those I saw two of the biggest marquee's I'd ever seen.

They were both filled with row after row of neat tables and chairs and both looked very welcoming. There was bunting on the front of each tent, again bearing the Cullen Enterprises logo and announcing the contents of each tent under that. The beer garden and the food hall.

There were a half dozen men decked out in black from head to toe at the entrance to the beer garden and I thanked heaven – and whoever Isabella was – that security for this part of the carnival had been thought about.

I introduced myself to the guy who seemed to be the team leader of the group and was shown inside. Thankfully, again probably the smart thinking of Isabella, there was no glass present. What there was was row after row of perfectly clear plastic glasses that looked and had the same weight as their glass counterparts.

I met a Sam Uley and accepted his assurances that he knew what he was doing and that he'd briefed the security team himself. He was sure that nothing untoward would happen that could be directly related back to the serving of alcohol on my premises. He even showed me the permits and documentation that gave me permission to even have alcohol on the lot.

Next door I was introduced to Jasper Swan who informed me that he was the owner of Swan Catering and Events and that he was happy to be the one chosen to put on the carnival for me.

I thanked him, profusely, for what looked like a mountain of work that had been achieved in a very short window and then moved back outside so he could continue what he was doing. Whatever it was it smelled divine.

I heard the music before I saw where it was coming from, but I got distracted on the way towards it by what up until yesterday had been an open, disused field. Now it had hundreds of beanbag chairs in rows in front of a half mast movie screen.

It was a brilliant idea and I wondered if it was something Emmett had come up with, or the mysterious Isabella Swan. Either way it was inspired and I very much looked forward to seeing happy faces staring at that screen later on.

I shook hands with two locals who were setting up a wine tasting and cellar door sales area and then I headed further back down the field to where a makeshift stage had been erected.

Two men were tuning guitars while a third did a sound check with some unseen roadie. The signage pinned to the front of the stage told me the band's name was Insignia and that they too were locals.

I listened for a few minutes and then made my way back towards the administration block, and the office that had been set aside for me to use during the takeover process.

**BPOV**

I had two hours before the fair was set to begin but about three hours worth of checking to get done before then so I wolfed down some crackers and sliced cheese in my rental car on the way back.

With my earpiece clipped to the side of my head I was able to talk to the operator of the cold room and get his confirmation that it was working correctly and would come to the right temperature, and stay there for the duration of the fair.

Another quick call told me that the two girls I'd hired to make the celebration cake had delivered it in good order and it was now lying in wait in said cold room.

Alice had wanted to make it herself but there just hadn't been time. We'd only arrived at the site two days ago and she'd never have been able to transport something so huge from our home base in Sydney. Nor would she have had time to make from scratch the sugar flowers and other details that it needed to really make an impact. So once again I'd sourced local talent and now all I had to hope was that the sample book I'd looked at was a true representation of just what those two girls could do.

So far the town of Gladstone hadn't let me down. There was a wealth of talent and a veritable endless pit of willing workers who so far had gone over and above what I'd asked them to do.

Nobody had anything too nice to say about Cullen Enterprises taking over Equity Steel, and I hadn't heard too many nice things about the illusive Edward Cullen either, but I was quietly confident that this fun fair would turn local opinion around.

And if it didn't it wasn't going to be because I'd not thrown the employees a fabulous time. It would all be down to Edward Cullen himself if this didn't work.

I finished up my last check in call just before pulling into a parking space at the administration block. There was another car there this time and I assumed that belonged to one of the executives who had come in to do some work before attending the fair. At least I hoped that's what it meant. I'd hate to have set everything up and the employees boycott the whole damn thing in protest.

I didn't think they would.

I hoped they'd come.

I had nothing personally riding on it if they didn't but I wouldn't like it if Esme Cullen was disappointed. Or Emmett for that matter. They were nice people.

As I made another tour of the property I placed a call to Angela who'd stayed behind in Sydney to try her hand at organising the Christening morning tea. From what she told me on that call I had nothing to worry about. She had all the bases covered and didn't need anything further from me so I let her get back to work.

I checked off the last few things on my clipboard before heading for the food tent to check in with my brother. I was delighted to hear he'd met Edward Cullen already and that everything was ticking along as it should. He confirmed that the cold room was down to the right temperature. Another check mark in another box on my clipboard!

With just one hour to go I rounded up small groups of hired workers and thanked them for all they'd done so far and apologised for how hectic the next few hours were going to be.

Then, with just a half hour to go, I made my way to the front gate to make sure my gate girls had arrived. They had. But worryingly so had a dozen or so protestors.

They held signs and were chanting a song about corporate raping and pillaging that was quiet creative, but I didn't want them there.

I knew better than to confront the protestors personally so I stepped back a little ways and made a discreet call to the local police. I was told that the dissenters were on public land, had a permit to protest and were all locals who shouldn't give us any actual trouble.

With that information in hand I left them to it.

Peaceful protest was their right and whether I agreed with their opinion or not I wasn't going to attempt to move them on, or inflame the situation in any way.

A quick call to my security team leader in the beer garden and I had two more qualified bodies on their way from town to man the gate and keep the peace.

Cars began to roll up with just twenty minutes to go and I was relieved, and a little proud, that my little fun fair had been promoted in such a way that Equity Steel employees wanted to come along. I greeted the first few personally, handed out the map and flyer I'd had printed and wished them all a great day before heading back to the kitchen by the food tent.

It was to be home base for me for the rest of the day and into the evening too. The security team had everything at the gate in hand, revellers were coming in in a steady stream, the food smelled delicious and whatever happened next was now, pretty much, out of my control.

**EPOV**

I watched the makeshift parking lot fill steadily from the lofty heights of my temporary office window. I'd been worried that nobody would show up and all of it would be for nothing, but I needn't have worried after all.

For some reason, the whole thing turning out to be a giant flop bothered me. But not for myself. For the mysterious Isabella Swan.

The scale of the carnival showed me the work she'd put in to put it together and before I'd even laid eyes on the woman I admired her. Anyone who could pull this sort of thing together, at such short notice too, was a force to be reckoned with.

I wondered if she could be poached but thought not, not seeing as it was her brother who was the owner of the company who employed her currently. But I quite liked the idea of stealing away someone who could organise, coordinate and pull of something of this magnitude without a problem.

And I knew there hadn't been a single problem because Emmett hadn't once come to me with a sob story. He had been as cool as he always was. He hadn't put in any extra hours on this as far as I was aware and that led me to believe that it was Miss Swan who'd done if not all the donkey work then certainly most of it.

I stood at the windows and watched a little longer as car load after car load of eager looking employees arrived. And then I spotted the protestors.

At first I thought they were merely more employees, but they didn't park their cars in the temporary lot. Instead they left their vehicles on the other side of the road. When I saw them retrieving placards from those vehicles I knew what they were about. I watched them set up and at first I'd been angry and ready for a confrontation but then I decided it was best not to agitate them anymore than they already were. So I stayed put and watched.

Within minutes, by some unseen hand, two burly security guards arrived at the front gate and assumed the position. They didn't engage with the protestors and from where I was positioned I didn't think a single word had been exchanged, angry ones or otherwise.

As the first low drum beats began to float towards me from where I was watching I saw my family arrive beneath me. It was show time.

I wasn't ready. I didn't feel comfortable in either mind or body and I felt like a fake in my own skin and clothing, but the time was upon me and I had to go through with it now.

I shook off the first pangs of a panic attack as best I could and told myself that I had to trust Emmett's judgement because that's what I paid him for.

"Come on, bro," came his call from downstairs and I couldn't put any of it off any longer.

I set my game face in place, slid my phone into my pocket, scuffed my trainers on each step as I went down them and then smiled nicely for my family.

I had to change my public image and this was the way that Emmett had decided I should do it.

Game on.

**BPOV**

I stared at myself in my compact mirror and plastered a smile on my face in readiness. I'd hidden at the back of the kitchen tent for just a moment's quiet contemplation but my time was up now.

The noise was growing as the area began to fill up and the excited squeals of children could already be heard, even over the music that was already filling the air. Jasper was at his finest as he managed his kitchen with his usual iron fist and if anything elsewhere was going majorly wrong I hadn't heard about it yet.

So far so good I thought as I squared my shoulders, checked my fake smile once more, and then went out into the throng.

And a throng it was.

There were children running everywhere! They looked excited and enthralled just as I'd hoped they would. The rides were already in full swing and lines were beginning to form for a lot of them.

The cotton candy machine was whirring away when I went by and there were already a heap of children with the sticky mess smeared across their faces too.

But within five minutes of leaving the safety of the kitchen area my phone began to ring and it didn't stop for the better part of the next hour.

One of Malcolm's sheep had crapped on the shoes of one of the children and could I find some wet wipes and get them to the animal enclosure right away was the first minor crisis.

A smallish child had shoved a piece of popcorn up his nose and his parents couldn't find the first aid tent on the map was the next.

The designated lost child point already had three lost souls at it and they were requesting another body to console the children until their parents turned up to collect them was the third.

Three journalists had tried to gate crash and the security guys at the gate wanted clarification on how violent they could be in sending them away was the last.

I figured all these things were pretty standard at an event of this size and of this nature and they were easy enough to deal with.

A small boy with his face painted like Spiderman, and being chased by a frazzled looking mother, shouted that it was 'the best party ever' as he ran by me so I guessed people were starting to have a good time.

I made quick laps of the entire property, phone in my hand as my hired hands checked in with problems or called for advice. All the concession stands were coping and so were the face painting girls and the balloon animal guys. They were busy but not stressed.

Sideshow alley was a huge hit and I'd already seen quite a few children run by with stuffed animal prizes clutched happily to their bellies.

Those bellies had already consumed a lot of popcorn, cotton candy and snow cones too I was told as I checked in with the operators there.

The animal farm had a ring of children around it three deep, with more inside the pens and more in a line snaking around and around so I didn't go too close lest Malcolm collar me for another chat.

The lines for the rides were manageable and nobody waiting in them looked too disgruntled. In fact they were all laughing and squealing like they should be.

I made my way back towards the front gate and checked on the girls there. The lists were now striped in highlighter and around seventy percent of the total list of employees had already turned up. That was already higher than I'd hoped for so I was pretty happy with that news.

The protestors had been well behaved too. They'd waved their placards and kept chanting their amusing songs but didn't actually bother anyone trying to come in or leave. Peaceful protests were my kind of protests.

The three journalists who'd been turned away had interviewed the protestors but there was nothing I could do about that either. I made a note of it and would inform Emmett of it when I found him.

I went back the way I came on the way to home base. Another child with her face painted like a butterfly ran by me and I couldn't help but smile smugly. An hour into the fun fair and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, there had been no major disasters and I'd successfully avoided Malcolm in both directions.

I'd deliberately changed out of my uniform into plain clothing, no company logos or even anything in the same colours as either Swan Catering and Events or Cullen Enterprises. Just plain jeans, a white shirt and ballet flats. To anyone who didn't know me I was just another employee wandering around having a good time and I liked the anonymity of that.

I could observe without letting on that I was watching for a purpose.

It also meant that nobody who didn't already know who I was would approach me to sort out their issues. I was just another face in the crowd.

And that was a good thing because I was quite enjoying watching a copper haired man having a go at the shooting gallery. He appeared to be on his own and he was doing his best to hide his frustration at missing every shot.

Each time he missed he'd square his shoulders, grit his jaw and aim again, only to miss again. I was waiting for him to tell the operator that his rifles were rigged but he didn't.

When his turn was over he'd step aside and let the next person go ahead and then he'd take another turn. One after another the other players collected their prizes, some large and some small, but this guy couldn't hit the side of a building with a bazooka!

I watched for some time, shifting from side to side to let people past, but I couldn't take my eyes off the guy with the copper hair.

He wiped his hands on the thighs of his jeans, my eyes following intently. The jeans were nothing special, just jeans, but his thighs filled them out significantly. And his ass...god his ass was like two ripe peaches begging to be squeezed. I wanted to squeeze them. I clenched my hands at my sides and took a deep breath before raising my eyes to watch him take another shot.

The muscles in his back and shoulders were held taut in his thin blue shirt and I found myself missing seeing whether he'd hit something or not because I was distracted by the sight of him aiming.

His fingers were so long they stretched almost halfway down the barrel of the rifle as he used them to steady it. They looked like a pianists fingers. Long and slender.

He let off another shot and I heard him curse, though he did stop himself from muttering the entire word I still heard it and couldn't help the bark of laughter that came out of my mouth.

He turned, fast, and I was met with two very pissed off, very green eyes staring at me.

I shrugged and covered my mouth with my hand but the damage was done. I'd laughed at him and he knew it.

"If you can do better you're welcome to try, little girl," he sneered.

I shook my head no, startled at the venom in his voice and unable to speak for just a second. He gave me no chance to anyway. He simply glared at me and turned back around to face the rows of slowly moving ducks, taking aim once again.

He loosed off his third shot and the duck fell backwards with a loud clang. He accepted his prize and shoved it roughly into his jeans pocket before taking aim again.

A young girl, maybe fourteen or fifteen, sidled up next to him and accepted her rifle from the operator. She took much less time to take aim and let off the first shoot within seconds. It hit, dead on target, and she whooped with joy.

The green eyed guy glared at her and then took his own aim. He missed though I couldn't tell by how far. I saw him square his shoulders again and then take aim. Bang! A duck fell but it wasn't from his rifle. The young girl had two in a row and she turned to accept the praise of her friends before turning, aiming and hitting another duck without seemingly even trying.

She chose a giant pink unicorn from the operator and skipped away happily on to the next game.

The green eyed guy watched her go, just as I did, and when I turned my attention back to him he was staring right at me. Or rather through me. I felt a shiver overtake me before he turned back to the game and raised the rifle one more time.

Bang!

He'd hit a duck and I found myself cheering for him. The sound came out of my mouth before I could stop it and sounded somewhere between a joyous whoop and a cat being strangled. It was meant to be a congratulatory gesture but I didn't think I'd hit my mark, pardon the pun.

He turned instantly, the scowl firmly in place on his face.

The operator got his attention and handed him a package. He took his little prize, it was far from being a giant stuffed toy and looked as though it might be a little boys water pistol or something similar, and again stuffed it into his jeans pocket before putting his rifle down.

And then he was in my face. Staring me down, his lips twisted up into a snarl.

"Those who can, do. Those who can't, watch and judge, little girl," he hissed and then turned on his heel and marched away.

I was more than a little startled. Actually I was both mortified and more than a little frightened of him and was happy he'd left his tirade at that and moved away.

I wasn't one for confrontation – though I couldn't fathom why there needed to be one at all – and blew out a steadying breath over my lips while I composed myself as quickly as I could.

I slid my hands into my pockets to keep in check the shaking and I stepped backwards until I was out of the way of the passing crowd.

I felt that first, wheezing maelstrom of a panic attack settle itself in my stomach and knew I was in the wrong place and it was the wrong time to give in to it.

Reflexively my hand found its way to my cheek and I rubbed at it subconsciously. It was an instinctual reaction to a raised voice laced with venom and my brain went right back to that last night with Jake before I had a chance to go through my mental affirmations to stave it off.

I was sweating. My heart was pounding. My cheek felt red and hot as if I really had been struck. My eyes filled with tears and I stepped back even further, desperate to hide.

I willed myself to hold it together, to not do this here, to put my game face firmly back on my face and get on with what needed to be done.

I took my hand down, tugged at the bottom of my shirt, licked my lips and blinked away all signs of my reaction to that horrible man.

Within two minutes I was firmly back in the present and the past was back in its box in the back of my mind. I had a job to finish.

I walked back towards the kitchen via the arcade area just to check that no riot had begun because someone wouldn't vacate a game once their turn was finished but instead I found an impromptu competition in progress.

Two teenage boys had taken up residence in a pair of side by side racing cars and a crowd had gathered to watch.

From the shouts of encouragement I could tell that it was a friendly competition and left them to it.

As I got to the kitchen area I could hear Jasper laughing, which was a good sign because if he was laughing he wasn't growling or yelling at someone. And then I heard an answering laugh and I stopped dead.

Emmett was in the kitchen with my brother. That meant that there was a good chance that the whole Cullen clan was in there too. I was about to meet Edward Cullen.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading. **

**Please review. **


	4. Chapter 4

**EPOV**

"The whole set ups amazing," I said as I ran my hand over yet another acre of stainless steel bench top. "I had no idea there was a market for portable kitchen gear."

"Looking to branch out, bro?" Em chuckled beside me.

"Maybe," I laughed, half joking and half thinking seriously about the stockpile of steel I had just sitting in a holding yard in Perth. "But I wouldn't want to be accused of trying to take over the world."

"Just a little corner of it," he whispered, our little personal joke.

"Yeah," I mumbled, still stuck on the idea that there could be good money in food grade steel appliances.

"I don't own a lot of it, and its always tricky to source this kind of gear to hire because everyone wants it on weekends, but I do alright with what I've got," Jasper told me as he came back to the bench with an enormous tray of steaming hot pies.

My mouth began to water instantly and I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten.

"Oh those look delicious," my mother crowed as she left the cupcake station to come and sniff at the pies. "Are they all handmade?"

"Right down to the Cullen logos on their tops," Jasper chuckled as he slid one onto a plate and offered it to my mother. "You're paying for all this so take what you want," he said before going back to the oven again.

Just as I was taking the first bite my sister joined us in the kitchen and began gabbling about the fair.

"There are so many people out there," she smiled. "And they all look happy," she winked at me. "I've had cotton candy and two toffee apples and I even considered having my face painted."

"Just remember that a devil design might not wash off," I teased.

"Asshole," she quipped, reaching for a pie for herself.

"Bitch," I added, completing the ritual.

"Children," my mother scolded, "I did ask you both to play nicely."

"I play nicely with others, mom," I said as seriously as I could muster.

"Me too," Rosie added, "Just not with him," she laughed, pointing at me.

"That joke is getting old," my father laughed as he too joined us and pulled a pie apart in his hands. "Will we be seeing Isabella at any point?" he asked before stuffing his pie hole with, well, pie.

"She's using this space as a home base so she'll be in and out all afternoon," Jasper shouted over the clanging of pots and pans. "Call her, she'll have her phone glued to her ear somewhere," he suggested.

"I'll do it," Em offered, already tugging his own phone from his pocket. "I wanna thank her first," he warned, pointing his meaty finger at the rest of us.

As soon as he'd found her number and pressed dial I heard the chiming of a phone nearby and readied myself to 'play nicely' with moms friend.

**BPOV**

I'd been standing out of sight for a few minutes listening to the groups banter and knew that I'd be sprung the instant Jasper suggested calling me, so I made it look as though I was just entering the kitchen as my phone rang. I answered it anyway with a laugh and did my best to appear surprised to find the Cullen, and McCarty clan, all in residence at one of the benches.

"Looks like the party's in here," I smiled as I joined them. "Hello everyone," I said as steadily as I could, my eyes looking directly at Emmett.

"Bells!" he cried as he spotted me. The nickname was one Jasper had always called me.

"Hey Em," I replied. "Hello Esme, Doctor Cullen, " I added.

"Carlisle, please. We've talked about that."

"Carlisle then," I nodded.

"Emmett called dibs on thanking you first," Esme laughed daintily.

"Yeah, so watch it mom," Emmett ribbed. "The whole things brilliant," he told me, dimples on show once again. "I've never seen anything like it. Everyone's whopping it up and it's all just perfect. Thank you so much."

"You're most welcome," I tell him honestly.

"Yes, thank you Isabella," Carlisle added, offering me his hand. I shook it eagerly and did my best to accept his praise without blushing.

"I'm Rose, the meat heads wife," a striking blonde told me as she too reached for my hand. "Thank you for pulling all this together, it's wonderful."

"My pleasure," I told her.

"And this," Emmett said, stepping closer and motioning to my side, where I'd avoided looking, "Is the guy this is all in aid of. Bell's, this is my brother in law, Edward Cullen. Ed, this is Isabella Swan."

I turned and didn't quite keep my reaction in check. "Oh," I say stupidly. "Um, I mean, hi, I'm Bella."

"You," he said slowly, the recognition clear on his face too as he reached to shake my hand.

I jerked back a little as our skin contacted, the small jolt of electricity stinging for half a second before disappearing altogether.

"It's nice to meet you," I managed to squeak out before pulling my hand away.

"I've heard so much about you," he said evenly as he stared. Whatever inflection he'd been aiming for on the 'you' came off sounding like I was something he'd rather wipe off the sole of his shoe. He was an asshole and I had the distinct desire to tell him so. But my father had told me to say nothing if I had nothing nice to say.

So I stayed silent, desperate for one of the others to butt in and steer the conversation for me.

I was rescued by Alice who skipped over to where we were all standing. She dragged everyone to the cold room to check out the celebration cake and I was off the hook and left standing, panting, right where they'd left me.

Within seconds my brother was at my side, his arm draped around my shoulders.

"You okay sis?" he asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Not a ghost," I whisper, "Maybe a clone of one though," I whispered vaguely.

"Your grills smoking, dude," Mike shouted from across the way and whatever my brother was about to say was forgotten as he ran off to rescue his burgers.

I just stood there, thanking whatever god would listen, that this was my last job in this industry and the likelihood of ever needing to come into contact with Edward Cullen was next to nil.

**EPOV**

While the others oohed and aahed over the cake I hung back and cursed myself silently.

I'd been an asshole to Isabella twice in less than fifteen minutes.

It was a new record. A new personal best. And it made me feel awful.

I hadn't meant to do it but I'd managed it without effort.

I'd been frustrated and embarrassed that I couldn't hit a single one of those fucking ducks while all around me teenagers were knocking them down left, right and centre. And easily too. It had pissed me off when she'd laughed. And it had pissed me off even more when she'd laughed again when I did finally hit one. She'd been mocking me and I'd seen red.

And then, when we were introduced, I'd been less than gracious towards her. I was sure she'd felt the jolt when our hands met and was just as sure that the cause of that jolt was my anger and frustration manifesting itself as electricity.

The look on my face probably made me look like an asshole but I couldn't help it. I'd made a bad first impression on someone my mother, and brother in law, really liked and respected. A few short hours earlier I'd respected her too, without ever having met her, because she'd done such a wonderful job on my behalf.

I'd spent hours admiring the clever things she'd thought of and then, when presented with the chance to thank her and tell her so I treated her like shit.

And to top it off she was fucking gorgeous!

"Hey, bro, we're heading over to the stage for the speeches," Emmett shouted over his shoulder.

I hadn't even seen or heard anyone I was so lost in my thoughts. I shouted back, telling him I'd be there in a minute and went back into the kitchen area to find Isabella.

I had to make things right. I had to apologise. I had to thank her. I had to.

But she wasn't there. Jasper told me she'd headed down to the stage area already.

I'd do it as soon as I could find her.

My public image was a bad one but that was because I never gave anyone a chance to know who I really was, what I was really like. But now that I'd met someone new I'd given her the exact same impression.

Why it bothered me what she thought of me I couldn't say, but I didn't like the feeling.

I wanted the chance to set that right but for now I had to put my game face back on, smile nicely and thank all my new employees for having a great time on my dollar.

Duty called.

**BPOV**

Game face on Bella I thought to myself as I made my way to the back of the property. I stopped at every stall and concession stand on the way and asked them all to shut down. This part was all prearranged.

Emmett wanted as many people as possible to be at the stage while he introduced their new boss so I'd set the time and coached each of my staff to close up shop, if they could, when the time came.

I checked my watch and then smiled when the announcement came over loud and clear from the tannoy system for everyone to make their way to the stage. Everything was going along nicely.

The short interruption to the fun would give the operators and the staff a few minutes break to recharge their batteries and to grab something to eat and drink before the second half of the fun went full throttle.

I followed the crowd as they went. Almost everyone had taken notice of the announcement, I was pleased to see. When I reached the designated area quite a crowd had formed at the foot of the stage, stretching backwards in groups and clumps. The noise was deafening as groups greeted other groups and speculated about their new boss.

The comments I heard had already started to shift. Edward Cullen wasn't thought of as quite the monster now. Little did they know what an asshole he could be!

Even worse, for me, than his haughty attitude was the fact that he was so fucking gorgeous he took my breath away. Typical. Handsome and a dick. You usually got one or the other.

His tone had transported me to another time and place and another voice that could turn my insides into a seething hash of dread and fear. Jake had been a control freak too. He'd also been a giant asshole who'd turned me upside down and had knocked out any self esteem I had ever had.

Jake's ego knew no bounds. Anyone who looked his way was either judging or admiring him. Anyone who approached him wanted to steal something from him. If someone dared speak to me in his presence he'd flip and become possessive and even more controlling. In the end it was impossible for me to exist anywhere near him. Nothing I did pleased him, nothing I said was right and everything I wore was designed to attract someone that wasn't him.

It didn't take long for his bad moods to shift towards violence and like the idiot I was I stuck around too long. I should've fled when he started threatening to hit me. I should've run and never looked back after the first slap. I should've done a lot of things. Instead I'd done nothing.

And by the time he really injured me I'd started to believe what he was telling me. I was a tease. I was a flirt. I was a useless, well, everything. My opinions were wrong, my ideas ridiculous. I was ugly. I was fat. I was too short. My hair too straight and boring. My eyes dull and lifeless. I believed everything he said to me because he said them so often.

But that last night, the last time he struck me, that was the end.

I never wanted to be anywhere near another Jacob Black again as long as I lived. I'd made sure that anyone who even exhibited even the slightest sign of being aggressive was avoided and I never, ever let myself be in the position to hear what others thought of me if I could help it.

I knew the signs. I knew what to avoid and Edward Cullen was another Jacob Black. Arrogant, self involved, a fake and probably a liar like Jake was too. I didn't want to be near him long enough to find out if he was aggressive.

Watching him now at the side of the stage I could see other similarities too.

He was a fake.

His jeans were too new. They were an even, uninterrupted denim colour. No worn patches and the colour was a deep, dark blue still. His shirt was too crisp to be anything other than freshly pulled from its packaging. His shoes were too new too. Too white. Too expensive to fit here.

The watch on his wrist was probably worth more than my apartment too. He'd swapped his usual suit and tie image for this one and I could tell by his stance that this wasn't normal for Edward Cullen.

Actually, now that I could study him without impunity, he actually looked scared. He was twitching from foot to foot, his hand rubbing through his hair over and over and his eyes were darting this way and that. He looked like a little boy about to take to the stage for his first school play. And that image didn't fit.

I'd seen him on the television a number of times and he came across as anything but unsure of himself. In fact, he came across as arrogant and gave the impression that the journalist asking him questions was a gnat that required squashing and was hardly worth the effort to acknowledge.

Where was the asshole? Where was the guy who so easily berated me in public without blinking? Where was the cocky son of a bitch who had let the whole world think him a self centred workaholic and had never done a damn thing to dispute that image?

And why now? Why was he allowing Emmett, and by extension me, to throw this massive party in an attempt to change that public image? What was so different about this company? I'd asked Emmett that at our first meeting but hadn't gotten a reply.

What I was seeing now didn't gel with the image I had of him after the incident at the shooting gallery.

It looked as though his mother was attempting to calm him while Emmett sang his praises into the microphone.

Rose stood by his side, her hand rubbing his back rhythmically. Was she trying to soothe him?

And Carlisle looked less than comfortable too. He was quite close to his son but from where I was standing I couldn't see if he too was comforting him.

And then it was time. Emmett had done his job and had introduced his brother in law and now it was all up to Edward to turn the tide of public thought.

He stuttered first few lines and again I was struck by the two images I had of him.

Something didn't fit.

**EPOV**

"Just be yourself," were my mother's hurried, whispered words as I forced myself to take the three small steps up onto the stage.

I could be anything but I thought as I shook Emmett's hand and stood in front of the microphone.

A sea of faces stared back at me and I felt the first bead of sweat trickle its way down my back as I opened my mouth.

"I'm...I'm...ah," I stuttered and inwardly cursed. Good start moron. "I'm Edward Cullen and I want to begin by thanking you all for coming today," I managed to croak before I put everything else out of my mind and put my public face back firmly in its place. "I want to begin by reassuring you all that your jobs are secure." I waited for what I hoped would be clapping and instead was treated to a rousing cheer that echoed through the large crowd.

"The reason I bought out Equity Steel was because I could see that you had a first class operation already running here." Again a cheer rang out. "But you needed more capital to really be able to take good advantage of the good work already being produced here and my team and I have decided that that's exactly what we're going to do here in Gladstone. Inject capital and expand the operation until you are one of the biggest steel smelting works on the Eastern seaboard."

The cheers went on and on at that and I began to relax a little. They didn't hate me, they just didn't know me. Emmett had been right all along. This had been a great idea.

"We'll start Monday morning. All of us. The parent company will work side by side with all of you to make this place as great as I think it can be. It won't be easy, so don't think that throwing cash at the problems at the factory here will make them all disappear because it won't. But I'm dedicated to working by your side to fix those problems and to introduce new practises to streamline and better make use of the talents of the workforce here.

"Gladstone has shown me that you're all good, community minded people and I want to expand on that as we transform the old Equity Steel into a valuable Cullen Enterprises company.

"By the end of this coming financial year I'd like to be able to double your output which, in turn, will double the opportunities for you all to advance as well as doubling the number of employees we have on site."

A roar went around the field then. I had them. The promise of more work, and possible promotions and I had them.

"But, like any good organisation, I can't do all this on my own so I'd like to take this opportunity to thank my Marketing Director Emmett McCarty who you also know as my Public Relations Manager. Thank you Emmett for all your hard work and for putting the idea of today out there."

I waited while the crowd whooped and cheered again and then continued.

"Today would not have happened without another very special group of people. Swan Catering and Events. Could you come up here please Miss Swan?" I asked as nicely as I could and then scanned the edges of the crowd for where she might be.

When I located her I smiled but she had her head down, watching her feet as though she expected herself to fall. She didn't, thankfully, and once she'd joined me – quite reluctantly I noticed – I presented her to the crowd.

"This is Isabella Swan and she is directly responsible for everything you've been able to enjoy here today. Please join me in showing her our thanks."

Another great cheer and then Emmett was coming up onto the stage with the enormous bouquet of flowers he'd hidden in the cold room earlier. I watched as he kissed her on both cheeks and then watched a lovely blush blossom on her cheeks.

She stood to my side, reluctant to accept anything from me, and probably rightly so right then, so I wrapped up my speech.

"I invite you all to continue enjoying yourselves this afternoon and this evening. There is a very beautiful and in no way sugar free cake for you all to share with me and I'll be heading up to the food hall momentarily so I invite you all to join me, introduce yourself to me and let me meet you." I paused when Isabella tapped me on the arm and handed me a small piece of paper. I read it and then returned to the crowd. "Miss Swan has asked me to remind you that there are party bags for all the children in a tent in sideshow alley and that there will be a fireworks display at around 7 pm, right before the screening of the last movie. Is there somewhere that all this information is available?" I asked her.

"On the flyers and the back of the map," she told me quietly.

"On the back of your maps, and printed on the flyers you've been handed, you'll find all the times and I'm guessing all the locations of the rest of the planned activities for today. You see? Without the expert help of those around us nothing would get done and days like today wouldn't be possible. Thank you again, Miss Swan," I said and turned to offer her a smile. But she was gone, back down the stairs and talking with my mother. "Thank you all again for coming out today and I hope you enjoy the rest."

I accepted the applause and went back down the stairs as the band came back on.

"Get down there, man," Emmett said in a rush, pointing to where my employees were still gathered. "Play nice, shake a few hands."

I didn't want to but I knew I had to. I wanted to corner Isabella and set right what I'd messed up but she was in an animated discussion with my mother and sister and wouldn't meet my eyes. So I left her to it and went to meet some people.

For the next half hour I smiled and chatted and met dozens of men who promised to work hard for me. I cuffed the ears of dozens of children and allowed them to put their sticky hands on me all in the name of being a genial host.

I was introduced to a hundred people whose names I instantly forgot. It wasn't on purpose, or because I didn't want to know their names, there were just so many.

I accepted the thanks of so many people in that short time and as the last of them melted away back into the crowd who'd settled in to enjoy the band I took a deep breath and made my way up to the food hall to do it all again.

**BPOV**

Mortified wasn't a strong enough word to describe how I felt standing up on that stage and having Emmett hand me a bunch of flowers!

And how awkward was it to be kissed by Emmett McCarty and then not be kissed by Edward Cullen? What? Did I have cooties or something? The Public Relations manager can kiss me on my cheeks but the stuffy, arrogant CEO is too good to do the same? Not that I wanted Edward Cullen to kiss me, but I'm sure the crowd thought it was odd that I was on good enough familiar terms with the middle man to be thanked that way but I wasn't seen as lofty enough up the food chain for the really big boss to bother.

For a start Emmett really wasn't the one who'd hired me, Edward had, sort of. So it felt like a snub of the highest order to have one of his minions present the flowers to me, not that I thought of Emmett as a minion. But still. He should've done it himself. Or better yet not done it at all.

Mail me a bonus check for having gone over and above the call of duty. Send me a gift voucher for a meal or a spa day. Hell, having his secretary type me out a thank you note and use a rubber stamp to put his signature on it would've been better than having to haul my wobbly ass up onto a stage in front of hundreds of people.

Esme had assured me that I'd been just fine. I'd smiled even though I couldn't remember doing anything other than grimacing at the time. Carlisle told me I had looked as steady as a rock and Rose said I'd looked confident, though I doubted it. I never looked confident so I knew they were all full of shit.

Thankfully Jasper and Alice had had to stay behind in the kitchen and missed the whole stupid ordeal. I caught up with them both back at home base and after a brief time of mutual admiration for my flowers we all got back to work.

I intended to do another set of checks on all the vendors and the stands but I went back through the food hall itself on the way. Big mistake. It was full to the brim. Adults and children alike had taken up residence in every available space. Every seat was full and as big as the tent was there wasn't a lot of standing room either.

And right in the middle of it all was Edward Cullen himself. His family stood off to the side watching, just as I was, as he shook every hand offered and smiled at anyone who approached him.

He still didn't look comfortable and I got the distinct impression that after the day was done he was going to go back to his hotel and scrub himself clean of the working classes.

On my way out of the tent I checked my watch and then I called the inflatable movie theatre operator to get him to postpone the next screening by half an hour or so. There was no way all those people were going to be done adoring their new hero any time soon. Then I called down to the stage area where the speeches had been made and asked the emcee to make an announcement ten minutes before the new screening time.

I made my way through the rows of concession stands and in amongst where the rides were and then checked in at the front gate. The protestors were still there though they weren't marching or chanting at the moment. In fact they were all sitting on folding garden chairs looking rather grim.

I dialed Sam in the beer hall and checked over the employee list while I waited for him to pick up. The lists were almost all covered in highlighter marks now. At a guess I'd say that only twenty or thirty Equity employees hadn't shown. That was a great result.

"Hi Sam, its Bella. Can you get one of your guys to collect ten portions of hot food from Jasper and bring it to the front gate for me?" I asked when he answered my call.

"Sure thing," he replied. "You want drinks too?"

"Sure. Just nothing alcoholic. And throw in some snack stuff as well as some napkins and some wet wipes will you please?"

"Done. Give me five minutes and it'll be there, boss."

I could always count on Sam. No matter what I asked him to do it always happened on time, in good order and I never, ever had to ask twice. I left instructions with the girls at the gate to hand out the food and drink to the protestors and then I headed back to the food hall.

**EPOV**

'All good, boss,' Seth mouthed at me and I nodded back to show him I'd received his message.

Seth Clearwater had been my head of security for the past eight years, ever since some nutjob had taken a pot shot at me while I was stepping from my car and heading in to my office in Sydney.

I hadn't wanted security, even after that because the whacko had missed me, but I'd been out voted. By everyone. My mother, father, sister, Emmett and even the doorman at the office building said it was a good idea. I'd only given in after meeting the guy Em brought in to head up the team. That had been a fresh faced Seth and even though he'd been young back then I'd liked him instantly and more importantly I trusted him right from the off.

So for the last eight years I was discreetly tailed by unseen men that Seth vetted and hired from a budget that only he controlled. I provided the cash, of course, but whatever Seth needed Seth usually got. And that included a small army of guys for today.

I didn't go anywhere without him knowing. I rarely went anywhere without him having first checked out all the contingencies as a matter of fact.

There had been a number of close calls in the past few years but he'd never once let me down. In fact, two years ago he'd been injured himself while he protected me. Seth recovered and insisted that that's what I paid him for, to be injured on my behalf and after a year or so I let it go. But it was a long year.

Seth lived in my house, ate at my kitchen counter and was pretty much my shadow most of the time. If I was indoors Seth was indoors. If I went outside Seth went ahead of me and gave me the all clear before I could set foot on the grass of my yard. If I went out to dinner Seth was at a nearby table and had spent hours checking it out before I arrived.

When it's possible he drives me where I need to be driven even though I'm perfectly capable of doing so myself. His reasoning is that I'm a target in a car that I'm in control of and I've never done a defensive driving course. I countered that I could do one. He countered that I paid him to keep me safe and that included when in vehicles. The compromise was that I drive myself on weekends when I'm going somewhere that isn't for work, if it's possible and he deems it safe.

Even today he'd driven right behind me to the Equity facility.

When I fly somewhere, which is often as Cullen Enterprises is nationwide now, and I've even got an office in Malaysia and one in New Zealand now, Seth makes the bookings. Seth meets with the security of the airline and the airport and terminus staff. Seth sits in front me in the plane. Seth walks in front of me as we disembark.

Seth is everywhere I am. And with his team behind him I know that I'm never, ever truly alone. I might not see him, or them, but they are there. I might not hear him, or them, but they are there.

He says I don't need to know just how many threats are made against me personally every week and I agree. I don't need to know. I'd never leave my bedroom again if I did. I only know about certain ones when Seth deems it necessary for me to know. And those freak me the fuck out so I'm glad he doesn't tell me all of it. I like not knowing. I like that Seth knows and I like that Seth is always, always on it.

He was such a part of my life now that everyone treated him as part of the family. He rarely joined in but he was always there. Watching. Listening. Waiting.

He'd just about given birth to a litter of kittens when Emmett told us both that I'd be in public and exposed for the better part of twelve hours today, at a fun fair no less. I'd listened to everything he'd had to say on it but in the end I'd agreed to let Em try to sort out my public image and I'd agreed to the fun fair itself. I left it up to Seth to sort out the details of my personal security. So far there hadn't been a problem even if I was covered in a thin film of muck from so many children wanting to thank me for all the fun they were having.

I saw Isabella come out of the kitchen area and I wished I could get her attention, or call her over, but I couldn't do so without seeming rude to the people who were introducing themselves to me.

I saw her come back in again a little while later but the situation remained the same.

I wanted to follow her to the kitchen and apologise. I wanted to get her on her own and explain myself. If I was honest I wanted to fall to my knees and beg her to forgive me. And that was an odd feeling for me. I didn't know why I felt so strongly that I right the wrongs between us, but I did.

She was lovely. She was good and kind and selfless and she'd worked tirelessly on my behalf and I'd been a prick. Twice.

And if this line of endless faces ever ended I wanted to find a quite spot, sit her down over a coffee and just talk to her.

**BPOV**

"He's not enjoying this very much I'm afraid," Esme told me as I sidled up to where she and the rest of the family were watching Edward from.

"Does he enjoy anything?" I wondered out loud and immediately regretted it. I hoped she hadn't heard me.

I swear Esme's eyes began to water so I quickly looked away, back to where her son was holding court.

I heard the emcee announce that the movie was about to start and watched as quite a few tables packed up their belongings and made their way out of the tent. At least there would be some bums on bean bags for the second movie I thought.

My phone began ringing in my pocket and I excused myself to answer it. It was Sam letting me know that the protestors had been fed and watered and also letting me know that there were four more journalists at the gate wanting entry.

I was about to tell him to deny them access when he told me he already had. Sam was great to have around.

While walking back towards the kitchen I noticed a dark skinned man whisper into Edward's ear and wondered who he was. He was dressed from head to toe in black and had his phone glued to his ear. In between whispering to Edward he was speaking into his phone as though it was a three way conversation. Perhaps it was? Edward had other businesses to mange after all.

I doubted he was the kind of guy who would delegate much or leave things unfinished. Control freaks never did that. So he was probably still working on the next takeover while this one was in progress.

As I was about to turn to go into the kitchen Edward looked up and he spotted me. For a split second he seemed to smile and as the dark skinned guy continued to speak I watched the smile turn into something else altogether. Another split second later and his face was thunderous and it seemed to be aimed directly at me for some reason.

He broke eye contact and turned to the other guy; he spoke briefly, nodded just once and then returned to the group of people in front of him. He didn't look back up at me and I didn't want him to. His stare had been frightening.

"Everything alright?" Alice asked as she whizzed by with the empty trays from her cupcakes.

"All going to plan," I told her as I picked up another stack of trays and followed her to the wash up area.

She was already elbow deep in suds by the time I got there and I had to marvel, again, at the boundless energy she had. She was tiny, just five feet five inches tall, but she packed a lot of energy into that little frame.

"What do you think of him?" she asked, tossing her head towards the hall.

"Edward?" I asked but I knew who she meant. "I don't know him."

"Nobody does they say," she shrugged and took another pair of trays from my hands to wash. "Jasper says it's that Emmett guys job to make him seem friendly. Do you think it's worked?"

"Well nobody shoved cake into his face," I laughed as cheerily as I could.

"True," she agreed as she swished the hot water over the trays. "If anyone was going to make a scene they'd have made it already I guess."

"I guess," I agreed, because I did.

"His sister invited us all to their hotel after we're finished tonight. Do you think you'll go?"

"I'm on a ten o'clock flight back," I reminded her and thanked my lucky stars I had a legitimate reason to bunk off the invitation.

"Oh bugger, I forgot," she cursed. Alice wasn't one for foul language so the odd bugger or cripes was all you'd get no matter how big the disaster. "I think we're going to go. We've got a late morning flight tomorrow so why not, right?" she laughed.

"Why not," I agreed. "Are you sure you'll be okay if I head off before everyone's gone?" I asked, still unsure that leaving the clean up and take down process to be overseen by my brother was a good idea. He was obsessed with his kitchen equipment but about everything else he had an 'it'll be right' attitude.

"I promised I'd make sure your whole list got done and I meant it, sis," Alice told me sternly.

"And sisters don't break promises," I replied, finishing our ritual.

"Four more months!" Alice squealed as I made to leave.

"Four more months, Allie," I called over my shoulder.

In four months time she really would be my sister when Jasper married her. The wedding preparations would go into full swing in the next few weeks and inwardly I cringed at the thought. Alice was brilliant at a lot of things. Patience, subtlety and conservatism weren't her forte.

As I was slipping out the side of the food hall tent I inadvertently stumbled across the dark skinned guy shouting into his phone. Whoever was on the other end of that call wasn't a popular boy I chuckled as I sidestepped him and made my way to the theatre.

**EPOV**

I shook the last hand in the line and looked around to see if I could still see her. I couldn't. She'd slipped out again. Again! The bloody woman was like a ninja!

I spoke briefly with my family, all of whom said they were proud of me for being so patient for so long with the long line, and then I went to find Seth.

Emmett called to me, reminding me that I was required in the beer hall in a half hour to meet the current management team, and I assured him I'd be there on time.

Seth was outside the tent still hissing into his phone so I mouthed that I was going to find a bathroom and that I'd meet him back there, in the same spot, in fifteen minutes. He gave me a thumbs up and I took off. If he wasn't following it meant that someone else would be.

It wasn't easy going this time, traversing the property. Before the speech at the band stage I'd been just another guy in the crowd. But now everyone knew who I was and I was stopped over and over again, despite having just spent the last hour pressing the flesh in the food hall.

I eventually made it to the bathrooms, made quick work of my business there, and then jogged back up the hill to the administration block. Jared, one of Seth's boys, was reading a magazine under the parking area and greeted me with a wave but no words. Seth's boys weren't very talkative and I liked it that way. Seth himself said very little. It made what he did say more important, or I thought so anyway.

I retrieved my cigarettes and went around the corner out of sight to enjoy it. It calmed me like nothing else could. I knew it was bad for me. I knew it undid a lot of the good I tried to achieve by eating right and exercising when I found the time. But I needed it. Not a lot of it. In fact I still only allowed myself just the one after dinner at night, but right now I needed it.

I needed five quiet minutes in my own head. I needed to process all that had happened so far and to wrap my head around what I still had to do.

But if I was truly honest with myself I needed just a few quiet minutes to pull myself together.

If there was a doctor around I would wager that my blood pressure was sky high. I'd staved off several anxiety episodes already today and I'd used up a fair amount of adrenalin in the process.

I was feeling low. Low on energy. Low on enthusiasm and low on the mental strength to do much more.

This wasn't me. I wasn't a social guy anymore. I wasn't good in public places. I wasn't good in new situations and today was all of those things. Very public, very exposing and very new.

I'd felt nervous and anxious all day. In fact I'd been afraid all damn day. Afraid that it would all be a flop, or be for nothing. Afraid that those protestors would ruin it if it did turn out okay. Afraid to stammer when speaking to people I didn't know. Afraid that someone would take affront to me and attempt to hurt me while I was so exposed. Afraid that even Seth, as good as he was, wouldn't be near enough to save me. But most of all I was afraid to fail.

The thought of doing all this and failing either in my promises to the Equity employees or Emmett by not being able to help him revive my public image made me feel afraid and ill.

My eyes were dry and my contacts were giving me hell because of it. I hadn't drunk nearly enough water and I would've killed a man and stolen his cup of coffee if he walked by me right then.

But the sweet nicotine of that one illicit cigarette calmed me.

I smoked it slowly, drawing in deeply on each inhale and letting the smoke out slowly over my lips to prolong the experience. I appreciated these things all the more for the infrequency with which I indulged in them and as such I really enjoyed that few short minutes of pleasure.

How crap was my life that I only drew pleasure from something that could kill me?

I stamped out the cigarette butt and went back into the fray. The parking lot was still full, so nobody was in a hurry to leave and I was both thankful and disappointed at that.

Half of me was pleased that people were having a good time and wanted to continue doing so. The other half of me wanted them all to go home now that they'd eyeballed me and shaken my hand.

Seth was right where I'd left him though he'd finished his call so we were free to talk for a few moments.

"Who took the food out there?" I asked him as soon as we were alone behind the tent.

"One of the Swan Catering hired guns," he told me.

"Who gave the go ahead?"

"I talked to Sam, her head of security, and he told me she asked him to take care of it on her behalf."

"And the press guys that were out there? Did they get shots of it being delivered or anything?" I asked, raking a hand through my hair.

"Afraid so," he cringed. "And there's nothing legally we can do about it either. They were on public land, boss."

"I know," I sighed. "Alright. Keep trying to find out who they work for and keep an ear open for any whispers about which side of the fence they belong to regarding me."

"What can they write? Honestly, she did a nice thing. They were probably bored shitless and just sitting around. She sent them some food and some drink. That'll be the story. The benevolent host, you not her, orders his minions to take his enemies sustenance. They've got nothing other than that," he assured me.

"I hope that's what they write," I sighed. "They can just as easily turn it all around and you know it. I'm needed at the beer tent," I told him, looking down at my watch and seeing my time was up. "Stay near, please."

"I'll be within reaching distance, boss, as always," he grinned and clapped me on the back as I left.

In public, or anywhere we could be overheard he called me boss. In private he called me kid even though I was only nine months younger than him. No matter what he called me it always felt fond and I felt better just hearing him say he'd be close.

**BPOV**

The first groups started leaving as the sun began to set. The girls at the gate were keeping a vague head count and reported to me that a hundred or so had made their way back to their cars. Thankfully the protestors were long gone and those leaving weren't accosted by them as they went.

As I made my way around I could see the lines for rides and concessions starting to thin too. Another half hour and they could begin to shut up shop.

I let the last pair go that had manned the cotton candy machine when they told me they hadn't needed to make any for half an hour. I sent them off to Sam to collect their wages and thanked them both for all their hard work.

The face painting girls were next and they too were told to clean up, pack up and head on up to see Sam. They were grateful, totally knackered, and covered from head to toe in face paint but they'd earned every cent of what I was paying them and I told them so.

Every single party bag had been handed out and if anyone had missed out there was nothing I could do about it so I went ahead and told those girls to close up as well.

The operator of the giant slide said it was getting close to the time he should shut down as once it was dark the ride was too dangerous without it being floodlit. That was good enough for me and he too began to pack up.

Malcolm was already packing up his animals when I got there to tell him he was free to do so. They were getting cranky and needed bedding down for the night he told me – not at all briefly – and I shook his hand and got away from him as fast as I could after that.

I checked in by phone with the roadie for the rock band on the stage near the front paddock and was told that the crowd had thinned to just two local groupies who had had quite enough to drink for the day so I told him to go ahead and pack up too.

Of course the beer garden would go until the very last minute, as would the kitchen. My brother and his crew were busy getting supper together and once it was served they too could begin to clean up and pack up, but not before.

The classical ensemble that were playing on the stage where the speeches had been held would play on a little longer, probably until stumps considering the size of the crowd who were now spread out across the field listening to them play.

I wandered around through the groups and asked who was staying for the fireworks and or the last movie. A few were staying for both but most, as I'd predicted and hoped, would stay for the display then take their children home.

I told everyone that supper would be served in the food hall between the end of the fireworks and the beginning of the movie and then left them to it.

I was beginning to wane myself so the idea of just plonking myself down in the soft grass sounded like a good one. Of course I couldn't do that. But what I could do was hide myself away for a few minutes peace and quiet behind the stage while I had a much needed caffeine injection.

**EPOV**

I'd met Graham, Tony, Mal and Kevin. Andrew, Shane and Liam introduced themselves. There was a Steven and a Greg in there somewhere too. Or was it Gary? I had no clue anymore.

The six who were sitting at the table with Emmett and I were the main six that ran Equity Steel and were now going to be my 'men on the ground' while we restructured and turned the place around. I wanted to know their names and I wanted to be able to remember which face went with which name but I'd met so many men today that nothing was going to stick.

Emmett had reminded me over and over today that all these people had only one name to remember, mine. I had hundreds to remember and nobody was going to be pissed off that I couldn't. I hoped he was right.

These six seemed like good guys. Whether they turned out to be guys who knew their shit from clay when it came to the business remained to be seen. But for now I thought they were nice guys.

They told me stories about the factory and about the workers. I heard all about the previous owner and the way they saw his mistakes. I learned about how these six thought the restructuring should go and why and I learned about which secretaries I should avoid being alone with in the office.

After an hour and a half I was ready to go and gave Seth the signal. It was a simple one. I tapped my empty glass, or in this case plastic-looking glass, on the tabletop three times. He heard or saw me do it and he was on his feet and interrupting the conversation expertly within seconds.

"Mr Cullen, I'm so sorry to interrupt but your conference call will be connecting in five minutes," he said with a straight face, giving me the out I needed without it seeming as though I was bored or being rude.

All six men seemed okay with me leaving the table and when they made no move to leave I bid them a pleasant evening and followed Seth out of the beer hall gratefully.

"Where do I need to be right now?" I asked as we walked swiftly away from the tent.

"If Emmett hasn't said then you don't need to be anywhere in particular," he told me.

"Where are the others?" I asked, knowing he'd know I meant the family.

"The ladies are by the bandstand and your father and Emmett are speaking with the men who are putting on the fireworks display."

"Christ," I muttered and headed in the direction of the empty field that was the furthest away from any of the other activities. "If Emmett gets a chance to play with fireworks we'll all fucking go up in smoke," I told him as I began to jog.

Running beside me Seth laughed heartily but I didn't think it was funny. I was serious. Emmett loved explosives.

Luckily my father had him in check when we got there and all was well. Emmett was far enough away from the boxes of pyrotechnics to stop me from freaking out. Just. Sort of.

"You'll need to be at least fifty feet away when we start," said a man, who I assumed was the one who was going to actually be putting on the display.

"Where's the best place to watch from?" Emmett asked as Seth and I joined the small group.

"Anywhere really," the guy shrugged. "It's pretty open around here so you'll see pretty much everything from everywhere."

"Cool," Emmett said as he began to bounce from foot to foot like a little kid. His actual children, my niece and nephew, didn't stand any chance of being normal. Not with a dad like Emmett. I could only hope that a few days spent staying with their grandparents, Emmett's mom and dad, would cover over a few of their more 'daddy-like' traits while we were away.

"Why don't we go and find the ladies and pick a spot to watch from?" I suggested, hoping Emmett would come away. Thankfully he did and we made our way to the other side of the area where the classical music was still going strong.

We found them at the edge of the crowd, lounging on their elbows and staring up at the early evening sky, nattering away about god only knew what. I was desperate to join them. I so wanted to just sit down and stretch out if only for a few moments but I wasn't sure I should.

Dad and Emmett had no such misgivings. They just sat right down, legs stretched out in front of themselves, resting on their palms and sighing in relief at being idle.

"Sit down for Christ's sakes, Ed," Emmett said, tilting his head backwards and squinting through the last of the sun at me. "Even CEO's sit down," he chuckled.

I was about to do just that when I spotted her. Her long, dark hair swaying back and forth to the beat of the music playing.

I was instantly transported back to the hospital benefit all those months ago and the sight of that girl, out in the moonlight, swaying without a care in the world.

Could it be? Was it possible that it had been Isabella Swan that night?

"Mom," I said as calmly as I could so as to not arouse suspicion. "Did you use Swan Catering for the hospital benefit back in March?"

"Of course dear," came her instant reply. "I've been using them for the last five years. Aren't they wonderful?" she asked.

"They are," I agreed, on autopilot now. "Will you excuse me a moment please? I just need to clarify something with Miss Swan."

"But they're starting in a minute," Emmett protested, referring to the fireworks.

"I'll be back in time," I assured him and headed in the direction of those lovely swaying hips.

I hoped she wouldn't turn around before I got there and for once my luck held. She didn't and I was able to watch her for a few minutes more as she gently shifted her weight from foot to foot, her hair swishing back and forth as her hips moved.

It had been in a tight ponytail all day long and she must have let it down while she took her break. The only one I'd seen her take all day I noted.

Like me she must be exhausted and whilst I'd considered just lying down on the grass for a rest here she was, empty coffee cup in one hand down by her side, dancing alone. Again.

"May I join you?" I asked, the words forming and coming out of my mouth before I had a chance to censor them.

She startled. Of course she startled. She'd thought she was alone. As she turned to face me I could see the annoyance on her face at having been interrupted.

"I'm sorry," I told her honestly. "I saw you back here dancing and I couldn't help myself."

"From what?" she asked, blinking rapidly now.

"From watching you," I whispered, though I wasn't sure why I felt the need. We were alone back there. There were probably two hundred people on the other side of the stage, but back here we were totally alone.

"So you've watched me, now go away," she said tersely and it was my turn to blink.

She didn't like me. That was evident. And I didn't blame her. My chance to set that right was upon me.

Without thinking, again, I did that a lot around her, I reached forward and took the empty cup from her hand and set it on the ground by my feet and then I took her left hand into my right.

That same spark of electricity crackled as our skin met but this time I had no clue why. I wasn't angry this time. I was enthralled. Captivated.

She didn't pull away, thankfully, allowed me to bring our now clasped hands up between us. I wanted to apologise. I wanted to explain my behaviour earlier in the day. I wanted her to listen and I wanted her to like me.

But most of all I wanted to dance with her so I kept my mouth firmly shut lest I fuck it all up again. Three times was so not going to be the charm.

I slid my left hand to her waist and pulled her gently towards me, adopting a dancing pose as best I could with such a reluctant partner.

I waited two beats for the music to begin its cycle again and then I began to move, tugging her until she followed.

She was fighting my hold and fighting me and I didn't blame her one little bit. I'd be crushed if she shook me off and fled so I opened my mouth only long enough to try to smooth her ruffled feathers.

"Give me this one dance and I promise to leave you alone if you wish it," I whispered into her ear and felt her relax just a little.

She didn't reply but she didn't need to. She'd softened her posture, taken a deep breath inwards and began to move with me rather than against me.

I could feel the ends of her hair brushing my fingertips where I held her about her waist.

She felt so tiny in my arms. Her head resting just under my chin, her hand in mine and her free hand resting on the point of my shoulder softly.

She felt like a new kind of normal. A settled kind of comfort.

**BPOV**

He smelled of peppermint and nicotine and I liked it.

He felt rigid against my chest but soft too, it was a strange feeling, to be held by him. And I didn't know why I'd allowed it.

"You frighten me," I heard myself whisper but at the same time I said it I relaxed just a little bit more, and that was just as frightening as he was.

"I'm not frightening," he whispered.

I didn't know what to say so I said nothing in reply and let the music be my sole focus. It was quite loud back there as we were very close to the stage still. But the type of music was soothing rather than brash and it leant the whole experience, dancing with Edward Cullen, a softer more intimate edge.

I found myself liking it.

And that was more frightening than I found the man himself.

He was a chameleon to me. Never the same twice. Rude and intolerant at our first meeting in sideshow alley. Charming and professional when he was dealing with employees. Gentler and a little self conscious when with his family and then confident and controlling again with a microphone in his hand and the public at his feet.

But this version of him I didn't have an accurate description for. He was quiet, gentle and nothing like what I'd witnessed so far.

I knew that at some point another version would make itself known to me and I hoped that it wouldn't be anything to wipe away the way I saw him right then. I wanted him this way.

I wanted him?

The music slowed to its conclusion and as I tried to step backwards and extricate myself from his embrace I felt his arms and fingers go rigid. He refused to break the embrace.

"Don't go," he whispered, pleadingly.

I nodded beneath his chin but voiced no opinion verbally. Right then, for that moment in time, I was content to stay while he was this version of himself. I didn't want to let that image go. Not just then.

Not when he smelled so good. Not when he was calm and quiet and his arms held me tenderly. Not when the whole world was on the other side of the stage ready to turn him back into the businessman. Not when at any moment he could switch back to being the monster I'd met who could so easily snarl at a woman he'd never met before over a silly game he couldn't conquer.

The music was finished and the only sound now was the low hum of the crowd.

Soon we'd be disturbed by the band coming backstage to rest while the fireworks were set off and I found myself already regretting the interruption.

I wanted to be held by him. I wanted to listen to the rumble in his chest when he spoke. I wanted to know him.

It wasn't the band members that broke the silence between us in the end; it was the blinding flash of the fireworks that broke the spell.

**EPOV**

I saw the guy come around the back of the stage but assumed he was a member of the band or someone associated with them.

I discovered that he wasn't when he raised a camera and snapped off several shots in quick succession.

I tried to hide her. I did. I pulled her hard up against my chest, my hand at the back of her head, but it was too late.

We were side on when the shot was taken and he'd have gotten a good, clear view of our faces.

Motherfucker!

I shoved her away without realising I'd been so rough and as she stumbled the flash of his camera went off again.

I didn't mean to push her, I just wanted to break the embrace so she could flee and save herself the ignominy of being seen with me like that. But I'd panicked and been too rough and she stumbled backwards and went to the ground in a heap.

Another flash.

I let go of another curse.

I reached for her but she crawled backwards, panic and fear on her face as my hands neared her and I cursed again.

Another flash.

She continued to scramble away from me and I continued to advance. I wanted her off the ground so the journalist would retreat, having gotten all he was going to get. But she threw her head back and screamed. Really screamed as I reached for her again.

"Don't hit me," she cried, tears streaming down her face.

I was horrified.

I'd never strike her. I'd never strike a woman. Never. Not ever.

I held my hands up in surrender.

Another flash.

I stepped back, away from her to give her the space she needed to get to her feet herself.

Another flash.

A bright white flash of the fireworks hit the night sky and she cringed away in fear again.

Another flash from the camera.

I shouted for Seth.

Another flash from the fireworks.

She got to her feet, turned her eyes to mine for just a split second and then she ran.

Another flash from the camera and the journalist ran too.

Seth was at my side in another half a second but it was too late. The damage was done.

I sent him after the journalist and I followed, racing behind Isabella, desperate to reassure her that I'd never hurt her and frantic to make her understand that I had unwittingly just put her in a very precarious position.

I had to apologise.

I had to make it right. Again.

But she was gone.

The crowd was thick and the fireworks continued to explode above us and I lost sight of her as she streaked through the mass of people and away from me.

Seth lost his man in the crowd too and we met up at the edge of the field, the first open expanse of ground where there was only a trickle of stragglers making their way to towards the stage.

"Where is he?" I hissed as Seth joined me, his head swivelling from side to side like mine as I searched for Isabella.

"I lost the fucker," he hissed back. "Who the fuck is he and why am I chasing him?"

"Journo," I spat simply. "He's got a camera around his neck full of photos of me I don't want to see the light of day. Find him. Destroy that camera. I'll be in the kitchen tent."

And with that I ran as fast as I could to where I hoped she'd be. With her brother.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading. **

**Please review. **


	5. Chapter 5

**BPOV**

I sat on the floor of the bathroom and did my best to settle my breathing down. It was tough going.

Fear and adrenalin mixed in my system to make my heart thump and my head pound in time with it.

I'd been stupid and naive and too trusting, again.

I'd broken every rule I'd put in place for myself after Jake and had undone years of therapy in what was probably only five minutes.

I checked my watch but I really had no idea how long I'd danced with him. Time had stood still. Like those dream sequences in corny romantic movies time had ceased while I'd been in his arms.

And then he shoved me and my body had responded as it always did after Jake.

My vision blurred, I lost my footing, I lost all ability to reason what a situation meant and I panicked plain and simple.

Why he shoved me I didn't know. But I'd been waiting for him to show an aggressive side, one that would match the controlling ego maniac side I'd already seen, and he hadn't disappointed. What I'd done to provoke him I didn't know and it didn't matter.

I knew better than to think I might have done anything at all to make him turn on me the way he had. Jake had taught me that sometimes you didn't need to do anything at all.

The boom of the first firework being let off had spooked him. I'd felt him jump. I'd jumped myself. So perhaps it was as simple as he'd been spooked and responded with his normal reaction. Aggression and hostility.

I didn't care why he'd reacted the way he had, just that he had.

My watch read eight thirteen. In forty seven minutes I would've been leaving anyway and I knew that Jasper wouldn't question my leaving early if I said it was important. So I called my brother.

I told him I'd had a call from the airline and they were rescheduling my flight. I had to leave now if I was going to make it. Jasper bought it because there was no reason for him not to and I let him reassure me that he and Alice would make sure the pack up and clean up went to plan.

I promised to catch up with him in two days time, as we'd arrange prior, once both he and Alice were back in Sydney. He wished me a safe flight, told me he loved me and I was on my way.

I forwarded my calls to Jasper's cell and switched mine off.

I splashed some cold water onto my face, fixed my hair back into its ponytail and smoothed down my clothing. I set my game face but on and walked out of the bathroom as though I didn't have a care in the world.

I sneaked back to the administration block and slipped into my rental car without being stopped. I drove carefully out the front gate and never looked back.

It wasn't far to the hotel and once I'd thrown my belongings into my bag I was back in the car and heading for the small regional airport.

A half hour after leaving the Equity Steel site I had checked my baggage, bought a coffee and a sandwich from the small cafe at the airport and was in a seat in the waiting lounge clutching my boarding pass.

Nobody approached me and I was thankful for it. I was holding it together but it was taking everything I had to pull that off. The slightest knock and I'd fall apart at the seams and I knew it.

When the tannoy announced my flight was boarding I was the first in line.

As we taxied down the tiny runway I put my head into my hands and cried.

He'd felt so right but had turned out to be just what I'd initially thought he was. A psycho who I never wanted to speak to or see ever again.

**EPOV**

Emmett had seen me running, Seth hot on my heels and then us split apart. So he too took off running, towards where the two of us now stood, heads swivelling still trying to find the bastard with the camera.

I'd come up empty in the kitchen. Jasper hadn't seen her, or heard from her, and neither had anyone else. I had to hope she was still on the property.

I'd run back to where I'd agreed to meet Seth and learned that he too had come up empty. No bastard with a camera. I should've, if I'd been thinking straight, told Seth to go after Isabella. I'd gotten a good look at the journo and Seth's glimpse was just that, a glimpse.

But I hadn't been thinking straight. I hadn't been thinking straight since I'd seen her dancing on her own at the back of the stage and now I was paying the price for it.

I just hoped Isabella wasn't going to split the cost with me, but even that early on I knew that she would. The press had been waiting an age to 'get' me for something. Either something seedy or tawdry or something with either a woman or a man that they could exploit.

So far they'd never gotten a thing. Didn't stop them making shit up though. Usually it was easily refutable like the time I'd been photographed at the beach with a friends little girl. The headline the next day was some bullshit about me having fathered the kid out of wedlock and ditching the mother and stealing the kid away.

The actual father, a university friend of mine, sued the paper and won. A big win and a big settlement.

After that the stories became more vague...women I was seen with were described as my _possible_ lovers. Children I was seen with were written about as resembling me very vaguely. Private homes I visited that weren't my sisters or my parents were called mystery residences.

When the bastards couldn't dig up or fabricate anything in my personal life – which was solely because by then I didn't have one – they began to dig into my business life.

Which side of that fence this piece of shit journalist was from was anybody's guess. It would be up to Seth to find out and from the storm brewing behind his features he was eager to get going on that.

"What's going on?" Emmett asked breathlessly when he got to us.

"Fucking journo snapped me and Isabella dancing behind the stage just now," I snarled, still looking about to see if I could find him.

"Who the fuck let a journalist in?" Emmett asked, looking around too even though he had no idea what the guy had looked like.

"That'll have to wait," Seth told him. "Right now our priority is to find the guy, or find out who he works for, get those pics back and pay them off not to write the blurb that'll go with it."

"I'll get the two versions of the press release moving," Emmett stammered as he shifted uneasily on the balls of his feet. He'd gone in the same direction mentally that I had.

"Do it," I told him simply.

"How far do you want me to dig?" he asked and I cringed.

"Don't dig. And I mean that, Em," I told him, pointing at him firmly. "Her private life is her business."

"I agree, in principle," he nodded. "And if the story that's going to hit the papers says she's a lovely girl from a good family who works hard and threw a great party today then that's exactly what I'll follow with. Her private life is her business. But, you and I both know that it's just as likely that whoever gets hold of those photos is going to dig and they're going to dig deep, bro. You're worth the headline and worth the money it'll cost to unearth any secret she's got."

"Give me a minute," I begged and began to pace. They were both going to want directions from me but my head was reeling.

My body was vibrating with such rage that I knew I'd crash after the adrenalin rush had subsided. I needed to be back at the hotel when that happened.

I knew the game and I knew how it was played. If the truth couldn't be found it would be made up. If I put the truth out there it'd be twisted until it was a seedy, illicit affair between employer and employee. We'd both be ruined. If I said nothing and let the story, whatever it was going to be, come out as is and didn't respond I'd be labelled whatever anybody wanted to label me and we'd still both be ruined.

"She's of age," I began, making a list of all that was okay with the situation out loud so Emmett would be able to follow my thought process. "She's single I think. She's attractive, smart, is professionally brilliant and well respected. She's a sub contractor so I'm not her direct employer. My parents are her friends and that never hurts."

"And she did amazing things here today. I can work with all that," Emmett told me.

"On the other hand I don't know for sure that she's single. It could easily be made to seem as though I was her direct employer, sub contractor or not. I was seen dancing with her and it wasn't busting a move in a nightclub. It was waltzing in a secluded spot at a company party. Fuck. They're going to chew her up and spit her out," I growled.

"Probably," Emmett agreed unhelpfully. "And if she's got any kind of past they'll find it, bastards. This could get ugly, Ed. If the pictures turn out to be crap we might be able to bluff our way out of this. If she stays unidentified I can fake it until I make it. But if they find something, or she's..." he trailed off sadly.

"I know," I sighed. "And I fucking led them to her," I cursed as I ran a hand through my hair in frustration. "And I can't fucking find her to warn her, or say sorry, or beg her to forgive what's going to happen to her now. Fuck. Fuck!" I bellowed.

Seth had me by the elbow and was leading me towards the administration block in a heartbeat. I didn't need to be seen to be losing my shit in the middle of a party after all.

Emmett, close on our heels, already had one of his staff on the phone and they were already talking strategy. His team would split into two groups. One would write a response saying we were just friends who happened to share a few moments dancing at a private party held on the Equity Steel property. The other team would write a response distancing me from anything to do with Isabella Swan, Swan Catering and Events and anyone associated with that company.

The official line from team one would be that I was entitled to have friends and that I was dancing with one of them at a private function, for fun. From team two it would be that I pushed her away as she'd made an inappropriate advance to her employer, and with her past to consider I felt I was protecting myself by pushing her away.

I hated both teams instantly.

I hated both responses instantly.

I smoked one cigarette after another while Emmett prepped his teams and Seth got his own team both here and back in Sydney to begin the hunt for whatever story was being commissioned.

I was useless.

I'd caused the problem and I was useless to fix it or stop it now.

I'd put that lovely, sweet girl in an impossible situation from which both of us might emerge damaged and there wasn't a fucking thing I could do about it.

"Hi Jasper, its Edward Cullen calling," I told the guy on the other end of my phone as calmly as I could. "I need to speak with Isabella, could you text me her number please?"

"Sorry Edward, Bella's flight got changed at the last minute so she's already in the air on her way home," he said. "I've got all her running sheets and contact stuff up here at the food hall if there's a problem?"

"No, no, that's alright. It was something for my mother. She wanted to book another date for another benefit," I lied as smoothly as I could.

"I'll text you Angela Weber's number as well then," he said. I could hear the shuffling of paper in the background and wondered who the hell Angela Weber was. "She's taking over Bella's job now and she's pretty great. I'll send you both numbers now. Give Angela a call on Monday morning and I'm sure she'll be able to help."

"This was Bella's last job for you?" I asked, shaking and already sweating knowing this was going to make things worse in so many ways.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Hell of a swan song huh? Get it? She's Bella Swan, swan song?" he chuckled.

"Yeah, good one. Thanks Jasper," I said and then ended the call. "Jesus Christ," I muttered to myself and then went to find Emmett. His job was about to get even harder.

If Isabella was moving to a new job, and this hit the papers in the way I dreaded it was going to, then her new job was in jeopardy. Emmett, or perhaps my mother as she was on quite friendly terms with both Isabella and her brother, were going to need to sound out whether Jasper would take his sister back and reinstate her into her job should that happen.

I would also inform our Human Resources director that a position within Cullen Enterprises may need to be found that could harness her talents should Jasper refuse. I wouldn't be responsible for ruining her financially as well as personally.

Her private life, whatever it turned out to be, was quite likely to become very public and if that wasn't quite bad enough her professional life could well be over too.

All because of one stolen moment.

All because of me.

**BPOV**

I was on autopilot when I landed in Sydney. I walked through that terminal so deep in thought I doubted I'd notice if I was mugged. I wasn't, thankfully, but I'd have been an easy target in the state I was in.

Luckily for me the traffic was light due to the late hour and the driver of my taxi not only spoke English but knew where he was going too.

Unluckily for me that meant I had about an hour to sit in the back of that taxi and think some more.

By the time I got to my apartment I was exhausted mentally and physically.

I should've been pleased that my last ever job for Jasper had gone so well, but I wasn't. The whole experience was tarnished with the events of that one dance.

The comfort of my shower did soothe me a little but it was so quiet in my tiny piece of real estate that it just allowed me to think even more.

By the time I crawled between the sheets and closed my eyes I'd decided that I'd been stupid to let myself wonder which version of him was the true one. It shouldn't have mattered to me either way. He'd employed me to throw him a party and I'd done that. There should never have been any other contact other than that. Not after the way he'd behaved in sideshow alley.

He'd shown me his true colours then and again on the stage. He didn't know me from Eve when I'd laughed at him and he'd treated me like any other girl in a crowd. I was a lowly employee up on that stage and rightly so he shouldn't have kissed me as Emmett had. He was right not to do that. I could see that now.

The vulnerability I thought I'd seen before he got on the stage was for the Equity employees sakes. The stammering, the slight stutter he'd had as he began to speak was a carefully crafted part of the image he'd wanted to project.

Emmett had probably coached him for weeks on how to behave.

What I'd seen personally was the real Edward Cullen.

What those Equity Steel employees saw was the image he wanted them to see.

My last thought before I let sleep take me was that I was glad I'd seen the real Edward Cullen and had been smart enough to recognise the fake one.

**EPOV**

Seth drove me back to the hotel. Emmett stayed at the party and gave my excuses to the family and to anyone else who asked after me after that. I had a headache. I had an important conference call I couldn't miss. A crisis at one of my other smelters had taken my attention away. Depending on who asked the answer varied.

Seth drove in silence and I was grateful. If his head was filled with strategies on how to get the information about the journalist then I wasn't surprised he was quiet. I couldn't think of how that could be done but I hoped he knew.

As for me my head was filled with all the ways I could set it right with Isabella.

I knew there was very little chance that she'd let me but I was going to try.

Once at the hotel I made myself a coffee and went onto the balcony to have yet another cigarette.

I dialled her number so many times in the first hour that I had it memorised and no longer needed to check Jasper's text message anymore.

I knew how long the flight back would take and I knew that she'd be on the ground ,if not already at her home by then. But every time I dialled it went right to her voicemail. It never rang. Just her sweet, soft voice urging me to leave my name and number so she could return my call as soon as she was able.

I went back inside only long enough to tell Seth I needed to see him when he was finished with his calls. Then I went back out and started on another cigarette.

I had the heels of my palms to my eyes when he did come out.

"They're all bloodshot," he pointed out. "Go in and take your contacts out. I'll be right here."

I did as he said and did feel a little better for it. He'd been right though. Both eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot as I swapped the contacts for my glasses. I didn't wear them in public too much anymore. I was afraid to have Lasik eye surgery and had accepted Emmett's advice to use contacts instead of being seen pushing my glasses back up my nose constantly.

Even in that I couldn't be myself. I had to not be myself, not be comfortable, for the public. I hated the contacts. They dried out my eyes and made my nose run by the end of the day. I didn't even look like myself without my glasses. I'd worn them since I was thirteen and they were as much a part of who I was as my hair was. Or at least it had been before I had it cut this short I thought as I looked at myself in disgust in the bathroom mirror.

"You're a fucking fraud," I hissed at my own image and blinked, hoping that the face I saw when I stopped would be me again.

But it wasn't. It was the guy who everyone else thought I should be. Not me. Not really.

I tore off the clothes that weren't me either and threw them onto the floor.

I went back into my temporary bedroom and found a pair of suit pants and a button down. As I did up the cuffs at my wrists I felt a little better. This was who I was. At least a little more of who I was than I was whilst wearing trainers and jeans.

I went back out onto the balcony and true to his word Seth was there.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"A little," I said truthfully and took a seat opposite him. "Did you find him?"

"No," was his simply answer. "But Jared got his plate number as he left the parking lot which is something. The car will be registered to whoever paid for it, probably not him, but I can work with that."

"And when you find him?" I asked, knowing Seth would move heaven and earth to do so.

"I ask him nicely not to write a story about you." He grinned but it wasn't a nice smile. It was a menacing, calculated smile.

"And when he declines?"

"Then I ask him not so nicely. And when he still says he's going to print it I switch to damage control instead."

"I don't want her reputation destroyed because she was seen with me," I tell him firmly. "If there is any way to limit the damage done to her I want it done. No matter what it costs. No matter what they print about me personally I want as much about her kept out of it as possible."

"I'll do my best, kid," he said softly and I knew he meant it. He'd used his pet name for me and I felt a little calmer knowing he was on my side and he was my friend as well as my bodyguard.

"She doesn't deserve what's coming for her," I whisper as I light yet another cigarette.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," I tell him.

"Why does it matter to you what's printed about her? You only met her today, right?"

With Seth I always tell the truth and this was to be no exception. I blew the smoke out over my lips and sat back in my chair.

"That's true; I did meet her for the first time today. But I'd seen her once before," I say. I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. I have his full attention now. "Do you remember I went to dad's hospital benefit at Rydges back in March?" I ask and he nods. Of course he remembers, he drove me that night.

I recounted how I'd first seen her. Outside in the dark. Dancing all alone and looking so lovely and content. He smiled when I was done.

"So you asked her to dance with you tonight?" he asked.

"I did. But I'd been a prick to her earlier in the day, before I knew who she was. And I hadn't had a chance to explain or to apologise so she didn't exactly want to dance with me at first."

"But she did. The journo got photos of the two of you dancing. You said so."

"He did. We were. I begged her to dance with me and she did. And he ruined it. He'll ruin her. I've ruined her," I moan and put my head into my hands.

"You've found her," he said quietly. "You'll explain. You'll apologise. You'll work it out."

"I hope so," I tell him because I really did hope I could.

**BPOV**

Alice called the land line at the apartment as I was getting ready to leave for my first class so I got to hear all about how the fun fair finished up and how the pack up and clean up went.

There were a few minor issues but by Sunday afternoon the property was clean and in the same state we'd found it in on the Friday before the fair.

Everyone had been paid, all the hired equipment returned and all the deposits repaid to Jasper.

I learned that Edward hadn't gone to the small gathering at the hotel after the fair was finished but that the rest of his family had. Emmett had thanked Jasper profusely and had asked for me to call him so he could thank me too.

That wasn't going to happen I thought to myself as I listened to Alice rabbit on about the little party.

As I was putting on a little mascara she filled me in on what the group was going to do today.

She and Jasper still had a few things to organise after the fun fair, and they'd need to oversee the packing of the shipping containers that were bringing our own equipment back to Sydney, and after that they'd been invited to lunch at Equity Steel.

Apparently a ceremony was being held to change the nameplates over to Cullen Enterprises and a little luncheon was taking place. Edward himself had invited them this morning.

I tried to sound happy for them. I tried to sound enthused. But I didn't want to hear about Edward Cullen, or anything to do with Cullen Enterprises, so I wrapped up the call as quickly as I could and wished Alice a happy day.

She wished me luck for my first classes and then I was out the door.

My first day of university as a mature age student went as well as could be expected. Hectic with a side order of fear thrown in. I'd enrolled at the same university where I'd started so at least the layout was familiar to me, but nothing else was.

I knew nobody in any of my classes and all the lecturers were new to me too. I was starting from scratch.

In a way that was good, I reasoned. A fresh start. I could reinvent myself and make new friends. New teachers meant new ways of learning and looking at things. Different timetables were a good change of pace for me and I needed a change. That was for sure.

I ate my homemade lunch outside, under some trees in the grounds, just like I always had when I'd taken classes here before. Only this time I sat alone.

It was nice to just sit there, soak up some sun and read over my class timetable and notes.

All around me groups were laughing and talking but I didn't feel lonely at all. I was happy to watch and listen. Of course there were hundreds of people milling about, most of them with phones glued to their ears or their fingers tapping away on screens as the generation was wont to do.

I hadn't turned my phone back on since leaving Gladstone and I guessed that if I did there would be a hundred messages on it, none of which I wanted to see or listen to.

So I sat there, under the tree, and watched the world go by.

It was as peaceful as I'd felt in a long time.

Back in school. Back to learning. Away from crazy clients and their crazy expectations and requests.

And away from Edward Cullen.

**EPOV**

My Saturday night had been horrible, my Sunday excruciating and now Monday was becoming unbearable.

A party of sorts had happened in my parents hotel room, right next to mine, after the fun fair had finished and I'd had to listen to the laughter and chatter all night long.

There'd been no sleep for me and even without the gathering next door I'd never have found any anyway. I'd done my best to find some relief behind my eyelids but by four on the Sunday morning I was too wound up to keep trying.

Surprisingly Seth was up when I wandered out into the tiny living area. He was hunched over his laptop tying away furiously and only grunted as I joined him there.

I sipped my coffee while he typed knowing he'd share whatever it was he was doing once he'd finished. Turned out he was contacting as many press people as he could think of that either owed him favours or could be bullied. Not a single one of them could shed any light on who the journalist with the camera had been, or who had commissioned a piece about me. There just wasn't anything to know.

The search on the rental car turned up nothing either.

He'd paid cash for it and the booking was made under the name of a company that had nothing to do with the media. I recognised the name of it but had no clue why they would be paying for a journalist to hire a car. It made no sense.

By six we were both cranky, sleep deprived, starving and getting on each other's nerves as we paced and theorised and still came up empty.

By seven we were both showered, dressed, fed and ready to sit down with Emmett and go over the information we didn't have.

We met up in a cafe in the main street of Gladstone and sat there for three hours throwing ideas around and at the end we still only had theories, guesses and assumptions. Nothing concrete at all.

We met the rest of the family back at the hotel for the luncheon. I did my best to casually sound out both Alice and Jasper about the whereabouts of Isabella but neither of them took the bait. After I'd seen my parents and sister off on their return trip to Sydney I went to my temporary office to try to contact her again.

Still her phone went to voicemail. I'd left dozens of messages by then pleading with her to call me back so I could explain myself and what was likely to happen to her from here. But she never called.

By early Sunday evening Emmett had a few different drafts of responses to share with me so we sat, Seth, Emmett and myself, around the table in the conference room at the hotel and went through them.

I hated every single one of them but knew that each of them was necessary.

I got a little sleep Sunday night but woke up just as cranky on Monday morning as I had the day before. There was still no reply from Isabella and still nothing in the press as yet. I was in limbo and I hated it.

I just wanted to know what was coming my way, her way. I just needed something tangible to refute, or argue or even to admit. But there was nothing. No pictures, no stories and no mentions.

There wasn't even a piece about the fun fair, or even about Equity Steel.

There was just nothing and that was so frustrating because I knew that out there somewhere was a guy who was polishing his written piece and I desperately wanted it to just happen so I could respond.

Doing nothing wasn't my style and yet I'd been forced to do just that.

I was in the office when my employees began to trickle in so I got to watch them in their natural habitat for a little while before the serious business began. They were an interesting bunch, the guys I'd had that beer with late at the fun fair.

I might not have remembered which face went with which name but I came to learn very quickly that they'd been serious about which secretaries to avoid being alone with.

I was accosted in the coffee room by the first one who pressed herself up against me any chance she got as we moved around the tiny space.

The second one got me in the copy room and took every opportunity to push her breasts towards me as she showed me where the stationery was kept.

I thought I'd done pretty well making it clear I wasn't interested and was once again grateful that I'd appointed a permanent site manager from the Sydney office to run the place by proxy. And seeing as Sonia had breasts of her own she wouldn't have to carefully reject any of the secretaries.

By late afternoon I'd checked my phone a hundred times and still had no answer from Isabella. There was nothing already in the press and there was nothing being primed for release that Seth could find. Emmett was poised to go with one of three versions of our response the instant something did appear, but until it did we were sitting ducks.

My mother called me just before I was due to head back in to restart a meeting and I'd hoped that she was calling to tell me something had appeared in a paper somewhere, but she wasn't. She was just calling to remind me about an aunt's birthday the next weekend.

It had been the very first time in my life where I hoped my mother was calling me with bad news. Or to berate me for being irresponsible, or that a horrible article had been written about me. But she wasn't and I was left feeling even more frustrated than before.

The meeting restarted without me knowing a thing about what was coming.

**BPOV**

When my classes were done for the day I settled at home with a pizza and my homework and decided to brave turning my phone back on. I needed to see that Jasper and Alice, and the others too of course, had made it back to Sydney safely.

I held in the start button and then set it on the dining room table, knowing it was likely to vibrate and ring its head off for a little while. I wasn't wrong.

Thirty two text messages from Edward. Nine from Emmett. Four from some guy named Seth who I didn't know and had no clue how he'd gotten my number. One from Esme Cullen, one from Rose McCarty and one from Alice.

I deleted all of them bar the one from my soon to be sister and law and read that they'd arrived safely, if a little late, the night before.

And then I dealt with the voicemail messages.

Thirteen from Edward, deleted. Four from Emmett, deleted. Two from Lauren which turned out to be just her bitching about the long hours and the second one to remind me that she was due for a pay review. Neither of those things were my problem any longer so I deleted those too.

Oddly I had just one voicemail deposit from a number I didn't recognise. It wasn't a blocked number but I didn't know it either. That one I listened to. I soon wished I hadn't.

'This is a message for Isabella Swan. I'm writing an article in which you feature and would like to have you comment on record before I go to print. Please return this call at your earliest convenience,' was the message.

I set the phone back down on the dining room table and stared at it while I decided what to do. An article? About me? Or at the very least featuring me, so it was more than likely about the fun fair and the caller was probably one of the journalists that had been turned away time and time again on the day. I hit delete and didn't give it another thought.

Until Tuesday morning when I was forced to give it some thought. Serious thought as it turned out.

The first calls started at five in the morning. I was sound asleep and my phone ringing beside me on the nightstand shook me awake far earlier than I'd have liked. It ringing that loudly, and right there beside my ear, made me jump awake in somewhat of a shitty mood.

"What?" I barked into it.

"Would you like to comment?" came a deep voice I didn't know.

"If that's you Jasper piss off," I croaked into the handset and pressed end call.

It rang again almost immediately and when I answered I was again asked if I wanted to comment.

"ON WHAT?" I shouted this time.

I didn't get a chance to hang up because the call ended from the callers end. Weird.

The third time it rang I just said hello, too tired still to bother with games and with not enough energy to bother being cranky.

"Isabella Swan?" the caller asked and when I said 'that's right' I was asked if I cared to comment _again_.

"Look, I don't know what it is I'm supposed to comment about," I said snarkily.

"You haven't seen it yet?" the caller asked.

"Obviously not," I barked, my cranky coming back to me.

"Sydney Morning Herald, front page. I'll call back in twenty minutes."

Then the line went dead.

It took me a few minutes to digest what I'd been told and then my brain decided to wake up and I understood. The voicemail message the night before had said there was an article being written with me. It had obviously been printed and appeared in today's paper. Other journalists were calling to ask me for comment. Right.

I didn't subscribe to the actual paper version of the newspaper anymore. Nobody did really. So I went to the app on my phone and hoped the article would be available online.

The last caller had said it was on the front page of the actual paper so of course an excerpt of it was online.

I wished it wasn't.

The headline was enough for my stomach to drop and my blood pressure to shoot up.

The first few lines of the actual article made me feel sick.

If this was just an excerpt then the whole article was going to be horrifying.

**EPOV**

I was woken abruptly at five on Tuesday morning by a pissed off Seth.

We'd only flown home to Sydney at midnight the night before so we were both sleep deprived and cranky. Seth's crankiness wasn't all about his lack of sleep though. Pretty soon mine wasn't either.

He threw the morning's newspaper onto my bed and told me to read the front page.

The look on his face told me just how bad the story was. I didn't need to read it to know that life as I knew it had changed and I didn't need to read the whole article to see which of us they'd chosen as the target. They'd run with both.

The headline was offensive. 'CULLEN SCORES!' it said in big, thick black lettering.

To accompany the headline was a picture of Isabella and I dancing, her face was tilted up to mine and I was smiling down at her in what could only, and was, described as adoringly. I studied the picture for a long, long time and even I began to see what the editor had seen.

We looked content. Happy. Lost in a world of our own making where nobody and nothing could disturb us while we were so caught up in each other.

The huge ball of exploding fireworks above our heads was obviously photoshopped and not because it had been done badly, because it hadn't. But I knew that while we'd been dancing the fireworks hadn't begun yet. It was for drama's sake and unfortunately they'd done a great job.

We looked like we were passionately involved and the fireworks were a manifestation of just how involved we were.

Fuck.

"Get a hold of Emmett," I told a hovering Seth who was still standing beside my bed after having shown me the paper. "I want the whole public relations team in my office in half an hour. Anyone who's late is no longer employed," I spat as he retreated.

I reached for my phone and dialled Isabella's number again. If she'd seen it she'd answer me this time, I was sure.

When I got a busy signal I was actually pleased. If her line was busy it meant she'd turned her phone back on. My elation was short lived. If she had her phone switched on and the line was busy I would wager she was already being bothered by journalists.

Fuck.

I wasn't going to be bothered by phone. Not my personal cell phone line anyway. Nobody but the family had it. It was a testament to how late my family slept of a morning that one, or all of them I supposed, hadn't called me yet. They would.

My business cell phone lay silent on the bedside cabinet but I knew it wouldn't be long before that began to ring its head off too. I put it on vibrate only and used my personal one to call my lawyer.

The call went to voicemail and I requested an audience with him at his earliest convenience. If he wasn't up, and he hadn't read the papers yet, he wouldn't know what for. If he was, and he had, he'd be in my office before lunch. Caius Volturi was a mean, hostile son of a bitch and he was the best lawyer I'd ever had. We liked each other very much and I knew that if there was some way to shut the journalist up he'd know of it.

On my way to the shower I called my secretary Kate. I apologised for the early call and asked that she be in the office as soon as she could. Nothing was too much trouble for Kate and that's why I paid her a fortune to do my bidding. She was going to really earn her keep in the next few days.

I took the quickest shower I could. Shaved more carefully than normal and then dressed in a brand new Dior suit and tie. I put my favourite business shirt on and slipped into my custom made leather shoes. I wore grandfathers cufflinks because they made me feel powerful and more in control and then I went out onto the balcony and sucked the life out of a cigarette.

I'd smoked more in the prior four days than I had in the prior four months and its calming effect was no longer working.

It might be five thirty in the morning but my brain wanted a drink.

I settled for coffee in a travel mug that I could drink in the car and then I called for Seth.

He insisted he drive citing my shaking hands and bad temper. I was about to reply with something sarcastic when he reminded me that if I had an accident or indulged in a spot of road rage today it would fuel the already building flames. I agreed so shut my mouth and got into the passenger side of my car.

As we drove Seth filled me in on where we were. He'd called the office building and had it in lockdown. He'd called in two extra men to shadow me, one each for my mother, father, sister and one for Emmett.

He asked if I wanted a man on Isabella and when I said that I did he made a call on hands free and within three blocks it was set up.

While he drove I called Jasper Swan's number and left a message for him to call me as soon as he could.

Next I called the daughter of the current Chancellor of the University of Sydney and left a message with her service to return my call at any time. Belinda and I had been friends for a decade and she had gone through Engineering school with me back in the day. Her mother had just been appointed as Chancellor and if there was a way to save Isabella's chance to finish her degree in peace those two ladies would know how to achieve it.

Until I read it in the paper this morning I'd had no idea Isabella was a student. I'd assumed that she was moving on from her brothers company to take a position at another, similar firm. I'd assumed a lot of things and most of them had been wrong.

Including the fact that she was engaged.

Fuck.

Her phone was once again busy when I tried calling it and as we pulled up at the office I told Seth to keep trying while I went into my first meeting.

**BPOV**

By six I'd had my father on the phone and it was safe to say that he was not amused. He read the paper from cover to cover every day but he wouldn't have needed to because my picture, and a very inaccurate account of my life was 'right there, on the front page, Isabella'.

I placated him as best I could and called Jasper. Alice answered and even though they had no idea what I was in a rage about they agreed to come over as soon as they were up and moving. I begged her to stop on her way and buy the paper and she promised she would.

They'd sure know what I was so upset about by the time they got to my place.

Then I turned my phone off again.

If anyone else wanted to speak to me they'd have to send up a smoke signal, or send me an owl.

Nobody had knocked on my door yet but I figured if a journalist could find out enough about me to build that story around he'd have no problem finding my address. So I double bolted the door, made a cup of coffee and sat in my apartment with the lights off and the ringer on the landline turned off and waited for my brother to come.

Alice burst through the door the instant I turned the locks and she had me in a crushing hug half a second later. It wasn't often that she was lost for words but this was one of them. She mouthed what I thought was motherfucker quite a few times, and I heard her mutter the name Cullen a few times under her breath too, but other than that she was just far too angry to be of any use to me.

My brother on the other hand was disturbingly calm.

He came into my apartment armed with the paper, take away coffee and his address book. He sat me down at the kitchen table and spread out the newspaper. He made me read him the article while he took notes on a piece of paper. When I was finished he told me to go and shower and get dressed into something business professional.

When I came back out of my bedroom twenty minutes later he was armed with a list of people we would call and wouldn't you know it? The top name on the top of the first list was Edward Cullen.

**EPOV**

Kate was at her desk and at the ready when I arrived. I handed her the list of people I needed to see and in which order they should be escorted in to see me in. I gave her another list of the calls I was waiting for and another list of calls I wouldn't accept that day.

I gave her instructions to find the individual members of my family and once she had to put their calls through to me no matter who I was meeting with at the time.

I told her that her main priority was to locate any member of the Swan family she could and to patch that call through the instant she had.

Emmett was waiting in my office when I got in there. He gave me one minute to put my briefcase down and another to plug my phone into its charger and then he pounced.

"Tell me the real story," he demanded, so I did. "Tell me you didn't know she was engaged," he insisted, so I did. "Was I sent to Swan Catering because you're fucking Bella Swan?" he asked and after I'd called him a few choice names I informed him that I didn't send him anywhere, that it was our mother who had arranged for him to meet with Isabella and then I thanked him to keep his value judgements separate from the business at hand.

"Have you spoken to her since this article hit the press?" he asked next.

"She won't take my calls and no, I haven't spoken to her. Not since she ran off the night of the fun fair."

"Well, at least we've got that going for us," he hissed. "You don't speak to her," he said, pointing his finger across the desk at me. "You don't speak to her. You don't see her. You don't be seen with her. Or her brother. Or anyone else from Swan Catering for that matter. You don't email her. You don't send her flowers, you don't do squat," he barked. "I've already had Jacob Black's personal lawyer on the phone this morning and they're talking libel action so you keep it in your fucking pants and your big mouth shut until I tell you otherwise. We clear, bro?"

I sat back in my chair and tried to rein in my temper as best I could before I answered. Emmett was good at his job but he wasn't a lawyer – though he'd have made a great one – and he was once again making personal judgements rather than sticking to business.

"Firstly you don't get to tell me who to date. Secondly it never came out of my pants. And third if she deems to return the three hundred voice messages I've left for her I _will_ speak to her, Emmett. It's my fault this has happened and I intend to apologise to her in person the first chance she lets me. If you can't deal with that hand your notes to someone else and step away from this."

He didn't look quite as shocked as I expected him to be. Instead he leaned forward and put his elbows on the edge of the desk. "You like her," he said simply. "You like her and because you like her you want to protect her," he grinned.

"I liked her," I tell him. "Past tense now I know she's engaged."

"You can't turn that shit off that fast," he chuckled and then sat back in his chair. "Besides, you said date. You never say date. You never date. And Jake Black's a punk and I reckon you can take him. Knock him on his ass and steal her."

"Not going to happen," I tell him firmly even though I too thought Jake Black was a punk. "Now can we be serious?"

"I am being serious," he insisted. "I've never seen her with Black. I've haven't heard her name used in conjunction with his for years. Your mom never said she was seeing anyone. I smell a rat."

Emmett used the word conjunction so I knew he had his work hat on and not the one made of meat so I didn't rib him about it. And the more I thought about it the more I thought I might actually agree with him.

"When I asked her to dance, that was when she should've said she was seeing someone? Right?" I asked more so I could get the thought out than to be heard.

"Right," Emmett said anyway.

"But then I did say if she danced with me just once I'd leave her alone. So maybe she is still seeing Black and I gave her a decent out," I mused.

"But, seeing him and being engaged to him are two different things," he pointed out. "I mean, if she was just casually dating the guy then one dance with you is fine. But if like the article says she's engaged to him, she should've told you, or just not accepted."

"I agree," I said firmly. "And I held her. I mean really held her. Not just friendly held her either," I said out loud before I could help it. But the damage was done. I'd tipped my hand.

"You _do_ like her," he grinned.

"She's a nice girl," I countered hoping he'd drop it.

"She is. But you _like_ like her. You do want to date her. You do want to dance with her. You want her," he said as though the idea was just dawning on him that I might be capable of actually liking someone romantically.

"That's beside the point now," I tell him. "If she's engaged to Black, or even dating him or anyone else, I can't see her again. But I will talk to her if she calls," I add just to reiterate my earlier point.

"So talk to her," he shrugged but he was also grinning, dimples and all and I hated those dimples. "Talk to her. Find out from her if she's dating him, or engaged to him, and if she's not you take your shot."

"There'll be no shot," I mumbled. "Not now I've ruined her."

"Remains to be seen," he said matter of factly. "If it turns out she's not engaged to him, or even dating him, then we have to find out where that information came from. Someone somewhere is blabbing and not necessarily someone from her side. Let me call the team up here and we'll see what's what."

I gave him the go ahead and checked in with Kate while I waited for them to arrive.

She'd found both my parents. My mother would come to the office at midday to see me. MY father was in surgery but would call when he could. Caius Volturi had called and confirmed he would arrive mid morning. Jasper Swan had called, which made my heart leap, to arrange a time that we could meet. As soon as Kate told him I was waiting for his call he insisted he not be put through and instead arranged to meet me at five thirty this evening at his place of residence. I'd have to live with that it seemed.

Seth had called in and I was asked to return his call.

Rose had called in and said to tell me 'chin up'.

I thanked Kate, asked her to keep trying to call Belinda and then I asked her to order lunch in for thirty people to be delivered at one.

Seth answered on the first ring once I was back in my office alone.

"I've got the journo. He's working freelance for a third party with the provision to sell anything he writes about either you or Swan to the highest bidder. The pictures, except for the one printed, were handed over to the buyer. But there's someone in the middle pulling his strings," he told me.

"I don't get it," I said honestly, trying to understand. "The Herald isn't who commissioned the piece?"

"No, they aren't," he said. "At its simplest there is someone out there who is paying this piece of shit to find information about either you or Bella Swan. That person is only paying him to dig it up. Once he was paid for the information he was free to hump it around and The Herald was the highest bidder so he sold it on. Whoever paid him to find it wanted it for themselves and doesn't care that it's now in print."

"Who the fuck would pay for the information and then let the digger sell it on?" I shouted into the handset.

"I'm working on that bit, kid. I'll check in in an hour."

The line went dead and I was left to contemplate just who the target here was. Me or Isabella Swan?

If it was me I had a lot of apologising to do.

If it was her I'd strangle her with my own bare hands, after I'd apologised first of course.

**BPOV**

Jakes secretary led us into his office with the offer of tea, coffee or water. We declined it all and sat in silence while we waited for him to grace us with his presence.

Always one to display his own self importance his office walls were lined with pictures of him with the great and the good. The great and the good according to Jacob Black though, of course.

He was a lawyer who specialised in environmental law. That in and of itself was fine. Nobody wanted huge corporations like Exxon to get away with destroying entire coastlines after all. But Jake had taken his environmental conscience one step further by also being the head of, and the spokesperson for, an environmental action group called the National Conservation League.

His work as a lawyer got him good public exposure but it was when speaking for the League that he got his head on the most news segments per week. I agreed with a lot of his opinions concerning the environment, it was hard not to because he was essentially trying to protect the planet I lived on, but when he began to use his platform as spokesman to attack the mining and natural resources companies for doing nothing wrong but simply because he could I began to see him for what he really was.

A media whore.

He was more dedicated to his personal fame than he was to the environmental causes he was championing; he was just hiding that behind his law degree.

Nothing was more important to Jake than Jake. Not me, not the environment, not the planet.

As his personal profile began to rise so did his temper and his sense of self importance and entitlement. Everyone around him was there to do his bidding, according to him. Everyone around him had to acknowledge how great he was and anyone who didn't was branded 'one of them'. By which he meant someone who didn't care for either environmental causes or their associated politics.

Once branded there was no redeeming yourself in Jake's eyes. You were his enemy and that was that. He'd alienated his own brother because of it and he'd never blinked an eyelash as he'd done it.

His gleaming white teeth were on show throughout our entire meeting. He assured me, all the while smiling widely, that he hadn't given any interview to any journalist about anything personal. He swore black and blue that he hadn't told a soul that we were still engaged or that we were even still dating. According to Jake he'd never been asked for comment regarding me, or Edward Cullen, and that if he had he would've declined to do so anyway.

He stood to gain nothing by bad mouthing me even though he stood to gain plenty by having a crack at Edward in the press.

Edward Cullen, and that meant Cullen Enterprises, were in Jakes eyes directly responsible for raping the planet for profit. But again he swore that he hadn't given any information or an interview about anything to do with either Edward himself or his companies.

I came away believing him.

Jake did nothing without having an ulterior motive all planned out.

There really was nothing to gain by his, or my, personal acquaintance being outed publically even if by doing so it scored a direct hit on Edward Cullen.

Jake valued nothing above his own reputation so I believed him. Jasper did too. There just wasn't any reason that we could see for Jake to lie.

Besides, his left eye always twitched when he was lying and it just hadn't.

He might be an asshole with a biodegradable stick up his ass but he wouldn't sell me out if there was nothing riding on it for him.

Our next stop was to a lawyer. Neither of us had any experience with lawyers because neither of us had ever had cause to use one. Jasper said he'd already made an appointment to see one so I followed his lead.

The nameplate on the door read Aro Vasilii and just the name made me uneasy. It sounded like a mob bosses name.

The decor inside didn't do much to dissuade me from the feeling either. Lots of black leather sofas, black lacquered end tables and a receptionist who Jake would probably like to charge with ozone degradation judging by the amount of hairspray that was keeping her bouffant aloft.

Jasper gave our names and she asked us to take a seat. I felt as though I was back at high school sitting outside the principal's office after having been caught smoking behind the toilet block.

They say that first impressions stick and my first impression of Aro Vasilii was actually a sticky one.

He stood no more than five feet seven inches tall and wore a plain black suit with a plain black shirt and you guessed it, a plain black skinny tie. The sticky reference was to his hair. Brylcreem had gone out in the seventies but Aro hadn't gotten the memo.

After the introductions Jasper put the newspaper on the desk and spelled out our problem.

There was a lot of talk about libel suits and defamation of character but I was still stuck way back on an earlier issue. How to combat what had already happened didn't bother me as much as working out who had spilled their guts about me. That wasn't something a lawyer was going to be able to sort out for me so I only listened with one ear.

On top of that I had to work out where to go from here personally. Professionally I was screwed. Anyone who recognised my face from the picture or my name in an application would blacklist me now. If the university didn't already know they soon would once the gossip began and then I'd have to front the governance group and explain myself. There was no denying it was me in the picture and as for the story that went with it it was going to be next to impossible to disprove.

I _was_ dancing with Edward Cullen. I _was_ technically an employee of his at the time if only just as a subcontractor. I had at one time been engaged to Jacob Black. None of that was a lie and that was what Jasper was explaining to Mr Vasilii while I was thinking about asking how to legally change my name or move states.

The whole meeting was a waste of time, just as I'd thought it was going to be from the off.

Nothing that had been said was technically a lie and as such no lawsuit could be brought against either the journalist who wrote it or the newspaper that printed it, Mr Vasilii just confirmed it.

He said he might be able to make a defamation suit stick but it would cost a fortune and only drag out the whole thing for much longer than if we said nothing and let it die a natural death.

Jasper wasn't satisfied with that but I didn't see anything else we could do and I dragged him out of the meeting before he had me signed up to pay the guy a portion of my wages for the next hundred years to mount a lawsuit I had no hope of winning anyway.

We drove back to his house and I sat and nursed a cup of coffee while I tried to decide what I was going to do next.

**EPOV**

Emmett's teams had put together some very well worded responses but I couldn't give the go ahead for any of them to be released to the press until I'd spoken to Isabella. That didn't sit well with Emmett or with his staff but I insisted and seeing as I was the one who paid their wages the chuntering didn't last long.

I hated pulling rank but the article had been about me and Isabella and until she told me personally what she wanted to do about it I would not release a single word from the office to any paper or journalist.

The meeting ended when Kate buzzed to tell me she had Belinda Powell on the line. I waited until the last straggler had gone and then I took up the handset.

"Belinda, thank you so much for returning my call."

"Hello, Edward. I think I can guess why you called."

"You've read it," I sighed and when she admitted that she had I sighed again.

"Is any of it true?" she asked and I was grateful that she did ask instead of just assuming it was.

"Some of it, yes. She was subcontracted to work for Cullen Enterprises at the time we were photographed dancing together, that's about all the truth there is in the story."

"Is she engaged to Jake Black and is that the same Jake Black that opposes every move you make?" she asked cannily.

"One and the same I'm afraid and to be honest I don't know yet whether she ever was or currently is engaged to him. I'd only met her that day and I danced with her for maybe five minutes."

"I see," she said calmly and I got the impression she was taking notes as I spoke. "I checked with my mother and she is currently enrolled on the, wait a second while I check..." I heard more paper shuffling. "She's enrolled in the Accountancy school and only resumed classes yesterday after a one year deferment and a four year absence. Mom says she can't see any reason that her enrolment might be revoked. Neither of you did anything illegal and even if she is engaged to Black there is nothing the university can say or do about her being seen dancing with someone else. It's all fairly innocuous, Edward. Am I missing something?" she asked.

I was relieved to hear the universities stance on the issue and was happy that I'd be able to tell Isabella that her place in her course was secure.

"I'm still missing pieces of the bigger picture too, Belinda," I admitted. "So far it looks as though a journalist was paid by a third party to find information about either me or Miss Swan. He handed the information he had to whoever paid him and was told he was free to sell it for print."

"Pretty shady," she replied. "And you don't know yet if it's about you or this girl?"

"Not yet," I told her.

"Apart from possibly being engaged to a jerk like Black what else has she got to hide?"

"I just don't know," I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.

"Well, as far as governance at the university is concerned she's done nothing to bring the name of the university into disrepute so she has no case to answer there. From a purely personal stand point I'm more concerned about you, Edward. As I'm reading it, to me, it makes more sense that it's about you. Someone with a grudge. Someone you beat to a buy maybe? A spurned lover?" she giggled knowing full well I hadn't had a lover in years and the ones I had had over the years were all still friends of mine.

"I don't know yet but I will find out. Thank your mother for me next time you two speak and thanks for calling me back Belinda, I really appreciate it."

"Huh, don't mention it. I'll see you at the club on Friday night, we'll talk more then okay?" she asked and I agreed that I'd be at the usual place at the usual time. "Until then keep quiet is my advice. Don't feed it. Let it die on its own."

"I hope I can," I told her. "I'll see you Friday, my next meeting has arrived."

"Bye, Edward. And good luck."

Caius Volturi arrived on time and with his transcriptionist in tow. Our meeting was brief because I couldn't give him any instructions yet. Not until I'd talked to Isabella personally.

I outlined what was correct in the story and made him aware of what was not. He gave me the same advice I'd heard from everyone else. Say nothing until you know who paid for the information. If anything came to light that made that aspect of it a criminal act I should call him immediately. Until then don't respond to requests for interviews, try not to be seen with Miss Swan until the question of her relationship availability was clear and keep my mouth shut otherwise.

As usual he told me he'd bill me for the consult and I sent him on his way.

I went into the conference room and tried to eat a sandwich while I listened to Emmett's teams theorise.

I had five hours to wait until I could meet with Jasper and I had to hope that Isabella herself would be at his residence.

**BPOV**

I spent the afternoon watching my phone vibrate its way across Jasper's dining room table. Call after call from private, blocked or unknown numbers. Email after email came in through his company website and every single one of them was from a journalist asking for my comment.

Angela had spent most of her day fielding calls at the office and my apartment was now being staked out by a row of journalists and photographers all eager to get a picture or a comment from me.

Alice had told me about them because she had to drive right by my apartment block to go to and come back from the office. She'd called as soon as she got there to tell me they were there and she told me they were still there when she came back again at the end of the day.

So far the only thing I could be happy about was that I hadn't been called in to explain myself to the Chancellor at the university. But even that I believed was only a matter of time.

I hadn't intended to be at Jasper's when Edward arrived for their meeting but I couldn't go home now. I was stuck there until the press moved on.

And so I spent my time making lists about who would want to divulge information about my private life to a journalist and why.

It was a pretty short list. In fact it only had one name on it. Jacob Black. And I didn't really, truly believe it had been him that had shopped me.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading.**

**Please review. **


	6. Chapter 6

**EPOV**

The only information Seth had for me when he came to pick me up and take me to Jasper's after the workday was the price the journalist had been paid by the Herald for his piece. That was useless to me and didn't help Seth find out who had paid him to dig it up in the first place.

I was nervous as I sat in the passenger seat and watched the traffic move slowly around me.

Seth was silent, probably plotting ways to beat information out of the journalist.

I had so many questions and not a single answer and that never sat well with me, not in any circumstance. I prided myself on being the one in the room who knew what was going on, why and how things had happened. It was rare for me to be so blind.

I was also feeling nervous and uneasy about seeing Jasper Swan. The guy had every right to sock me one for the way I'd treated his sister. And then there was Alice. Rose had told me a bit about her and I thought there was a good chance I could be hit by her too. And then there was Isabella herself.

I wanted her to be there when I arrived. I wanted to see her. Talk to her. Apologise. And make myself understood most of all. I wanted and needed to tell her that I was sorry that she was photographed and how sorry I was that her name was now associated with mine in such an insidious way. But most of all I wanted to just be near her. To watch her and listen to her.

And then, once I'd seen that she was alright, I wanted to sit down with her and work out just which one of us was actually being targeted by the story that was printed.

But really what I desperately wanted to know was whether she was engaged to be married to Jake Black.

If I came away from seeing her with only that piece of information I thought I might be alright. I could console myself with the knowledge that it was more likely an enemy of his that had bought the information and that it had nothing to do with me. I'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But that, as a relief as that would be for me, threw up more questions.

Why had she agreed to dance with me the way we did if she was engaged?

Why did she feel so fucking perfect in my arms if she was meant for someone else?

Why the fuck would someone as lovely as she was be willing to marry an asshat like Jake Black?

**BPOV**

As five-thirty drew near I got more and more nervous about seeing him.

I wanted answers. I wanted to know what he'd done to make him a media target and I wanted to know who hated him enough to drag me through the mud with him.

I wanted an answer to the question I'd asked Emmett. Why now, why this company, why had he put himself out there to try to change his public image?

I wanted to know why he'd shoved me away. I wanted to know why he changed personalities so often. I wanted to know why he'd been so hell bent on dancing with me and I wanted to know who'd let the journalist onto the property in the first place.

But most of all I wanted to hear him apologise for it all.

Alice made a fresh pot of coffee as the time for him to arrive drew near. We all had theories about who he was going to bring with him. Alice thought his mother, Jasper speculated that he'd have his lawyer and I thought he'd come with muscle.

Turned out I was right.

We stood by the front door and watched through the glass side lights as the same dark skinned guy I'd seen him with at the fun fair exited the Mercedes and went around to let his passenger out.

Jasper whispered for me to stay indoors and he went outside to greet them. The three of them shook hands, a few words were spoken and then Jasper led them back to the house.

Alice and I stepped aside while they came through the door.

He looked tired. That was my first impression after not having laid eyes on him for three days. He looked tired, frustrated and nervous.

He was decked out in one of the suits I was used to seeing him in on the television but he looked a little crumpled. His hands shook as he greeted Alice and then he came to stand in front of me.

"I'm so sorry," were his first words.

I stared up at him and everything I'd rehearsed in my head went out the window.

I'd readied my fingers and drawn my arm back before I had time to rethink doing it. And as I slapped him I let out an inhuman screech I didn't know I'd been capable of.

Alice shouted in alarm, Jasper tried to step between us and his muscle man laughed.

I cradled my hand against my chest as pain radiated up my arm as Edward raised his hand to his cheek and rubbed at the thick red welt that was forming.

"I deserved that," he whispered as he lowered his hand and I got my first look at what I'd done. I had to look around Jasper who seemed unwilling to move just in case I struck out again. "I deserved that for behaving so appallingly at the shooting gallery," he said quietly. "I deserved that for my reaction when we were introduced and I deserved that for allowing you to be in the situation you find yourself in now after having been photographed with me."

"All right," the dark skinned guy said sternly. "That's out of the way now. Can we sit and talk civilly now?"

"Who are you?" I demanded before I could check myself.

He stepped around Jasper and held out his hand for me. "I'm Seth Clearwater. Edward's bodyguard and head of his security team."

"Nice to meet you," I managed to say as I stared up at the huge man while we shook hands.

"Are we going to play nicely now?" he asked with a cheeky smile and I nodded that I would. "Edward?" he asked over his shoulder.

"I'm fine," was the response though I doubted that he truly was.

His cheek was a fiery red now and if it hurt half as much as my hand did he wasn't fine.

"Come on," I told him and dragged him by the sleeve of his suit coat towards the kitchen.

I let him go only long enough to drag a bag of frozen peas from Jasper's freezer. I wrapped the bag in a tea towel and handed it to him.

I expected him to put it to his cheek but he didn't. He put the wrapped parcel onto the counter and stepped towards me. I stood frozen to the spot wondering what he was going to do. Would he slap me back? Push me? Shove me again?

"I won't hurt you," he whispered as his hand came away from his side and reached for mine.

Something in his voice, and the soft or maybe concerned look on his face, told me he wasn't going to hurt me so I let him have my hand. He took it in his, raised it to his lips and kissed my palm.

"I won't hurt you," he whispered again as he lowered my hand and took up the tea towel wrapped peas. "I would never hurt you, or anyone," he whispered as he lowered my palm onto the cold pack.

I watched his face as he looked at my hand. The red welt was already abating on his cheek but I could still see it because I was so close to him. His eyes never left my hand. I'd made the pack to soothe his face but here he was using it to soothe the hand I'd slapped him with.

"I promise I'd never hurt you," he whispered again.

"You pushed me," I whispered back, referring to the night we'd danced.

"I did and I'm so, so sorry," he told me as he raised his eyes from my hand to meet mine. "When that camera flash went off I panicked," he said softly. "Being seen with me, being photographed with me, isn't good for you. It isn't good for anyone. And I panicked and pushed you away so he couldn't get another shot of us."

"Fireworks," I managed to croak as my eyes filled with tears.

"No, darling," he whispered softly. "Not fireworks, a camera flash."

I watched his free hand come up between us and I fought the urge to move away. He could strike me at this range and do real damage. I must have flinched just a little because his face clouded over and he withdrew his hand.

"I won't hurt you, I promise you. I swear to you. I'd never hurt you," he told me and moved his hand upwards again, but this time very, very slowly. I stayed put. I watched his hand as he curved it and cupped my cheek with it. "I saw him come around the back of the bandstand and then he took that first picture," he sighed as though it hurt him just as much to think about the photo as it had hurt me since seeing it. "I wanted to put some distance between us so he wouldn't be able to get another shot of you so close to me, but I pushed too hard and you fell. I'm so sorry."

"You don't want to be seen with me," I stated simply.

"Not true," he replied instantly. "You've learned firsthand today what it's like to be seen with _me_. I knew what would happen. I didn't want that for you."

"Why do people care who you're seen with?" I asked.

His thumb began to stroke my cheek very slowly and ever so softly and I found myself moving just a little into the touch. "Because they think I'm a monster and they want proof of it."

"Are you?" I asked cautiously.

"I don't think so."

"He wrote that you took advantage of me, that you are my boss and that..." I trailed off, on the verge of more tears thinking about the awful things that were written.

"Shhh," he hushed me gently, his thumb still stroking my cheek. "We know the truth. I don't care what they write about me, only about what's written about you."

"Why?" I asked. "Why don't you care what they write about you? It has to hurt and its all lies, isn't it?" I was desperate for him to clear up all the discrepancies I'd seen and heard since meeting him.

"Most of it is, yes. I've balked at giving interviews and I guess that they think something has to be written so without the truth they make it up. I've made myself a target because I don't talk about my private life."

"It's awful," I tell him.

"It is and I'm so sorry you got caught up in it."

"He said I was a gold digger."

"He's a bastard."

"He said I was your next conquest."

"A lie."

"He said you'd set the whole thing up."

"Another lie."

"He said you wanted to take over my brothers business."

"I make steel, not cupcakes."

"He said you used me to get to Jasper."

"What for? To steal his recipe for pies? It's lies."

"The picture had fireworks behind us."

"Photoshop."

"I don't know who let him in."

"Seth will find out."

"He said you were an awful dancer."

"I probably am."

"You're not. I liked it."

"I liked it too. You felt so good."

"I'm going to be thrown out of school."

"The Governance Committee has no plans to call you in. I checked."

"I'll never get a job now."

"You will. I'll do as many interviews as it takes to clear it all up."

"My father's so angry."

"I'll apologise to him."

"Jasper's business might suffer."

"I'll compensate him."

"Why are you different every time I'm near you?"

"I don't know who I am myself."

"I slapped you."

"I deserved it."

"I hurt you."

"Someone's hurt you before. I swear I never will."

"Jake. Jake hurt me."

"I'll kill him."

"Don't. He'll hurt you. He already doesn't like you."

"Let him try. I never liked him either."

"I was engaged to him."

"Was? Are you now?"

"No. He hurt me. I left him. Years ago."

"Good girl. Are you seeing anyone?"

"No."

"Please don't. Until I can clear all this up. Please don't date anyone. Let me show you who I really am and then you can decide to date me, or not."

"Okay," I whisper and close my eyes because all of it, and none of it, makes any sense right then.

My head is swimming with information. It's reeling from his words and my body is on fire because he's still stroking my cheek. His breath is mixing with my breath as we speak and I can smell his aftershave and the nicotine from his last cigarette. There's peppermint there too and I want to taste it. I want to taste him.

But my brother chooses that moment to come find us and the spell is broken.

"You okay, Bell's?" he asks as he comes around the corner and into the kitchen.

Edward and I spring apart and he's smart enough, and lucid enough, to pull the cold pack out of my hand and put it on his cheek.

"I'm fine, we're just talking," I tell my brother who looks at both of us in turn quizzically.

"I need a word with Edward and I think Alice wants you to go with her to get some dinner," my brother says and I get what he's trying to tell me.

He wants me away from Edward and out of the house while they shout at each other.

I'm torn. Twenty minutes ago I wanted to shout at him too. But I don't want to be in earshot if they do, confrontation of any kind freaks me out.

"Have you eaten?" I ask Edward who is already shaking his head. "Chinese okay with you?"

"Its fine," he says and reaches into his suit coat and brings out his wallet. He tries to hand me two crisp hundred dollar bills and asks if that's enough.

I laugh. I can't help it. Whatever world he's living in is obviously very different from mine if a Chinese takeaway costs two hundred dollars.

"I'm good," I giggle and wave his money away. "We'll be back soon. Play nice," I tell my brother as I leave the kitchen and go find Alice.

**EPOV**

"What were you talking about?" Jasper asked me the instant his sister had left the kitchen.

"It's private," I tell him firmly.

"You know she tells Alice everything, right?" he sneers.

"I didn't know that, no," is my reply because I really didn't.

"Well she does. So if you've said anything that's upset her I'll find out."

"If I've said anything to upset her she'd have told me so at the time."

"Maybe," he says, shrugging.

"She doesn't seem to have any problem making herself understood to me," I say, rubbing my cheek where she'd slapped me.

"I've never seen her slap anyone before," he says, grinning. The grin made no sense to me.

"It wasn't my first slap."

"I'll bet," he sniggers and gestures towards the part of the house we'd come from earlier.

I follow him out of the kitchen, leaving the cold pack that I didn't really need behind on the counter. We go down a short hallway and I'm ushered into a small study. Seth is sitting on a straight backed chair opposite what is obviously Jasper's desk.

"Is your man on it?" I ask Seth who nods minutely.

I sigh a little in relief, worried that Isabella was out there and knowing the press would be relentless trying to find her for comment.

"What was that?" Jasper asks and I look to Seth to answer. This is his speciality, not mine.

"Since the article appeared in the paper this morning I've had one of my security crew keeping an eye on your sister. The press can be pretty... insistent," he says with a cringe, choosing his words carefully.

"Christ," Jasper mutters darkly and sits back in his chair to give me the evil eye a little. "I didn't think of doing that myself. But then again I've never had to protect my sister before."

"You didn't try to protect her from Jake?" I ask just as darkly.

"I didn't know he was hurting her until it was too late," Jasper sputters, offended and pretty pissed off at my insinuation. "And how the fuck do _you_ know he hurt her anyway? She doesn't talk about that, with _anyone_."

"Not even with Alice?" I ask sarcastically. His implication had been clear, my response just as pointed.

"She didn't tell anyone at the time and she doesn't talk about it now," he said sadly and I immediately felt bad for my quip.

I'd been cruel and I didn't want to fight with this man. "I'm sorry," I tell him sincerely. "That was uncalled for. If anyone hurt Rosie I'd...well, you know?" I shrugged and his posture relaxed.

"Yeah, I know," he said quietly. "Look, I don't want to hate you, but you have to see this from my point of view. It's hard not to dislike you right now. Just being seen dancing with you, and I have no idea why she was seen dancing with you at all by the way, has caused all this trouble and I have no clue what to do about it. A lawyer told us today that it would cost a fortune to sue for defamation of character and a libel suit is a waste of time because it's mostly all true, and the stuff that isn't is impossible to prove or would make it worse if we tried. What the fuck have you done that's made the press want to crucify you?" he asked me.

There were so many points in his statement that I needed to address. So many questions still remained unanswered and he was just as frustrated as I was about it all. So I did my best to go through it point for point.

"I can see this from your point of view. That's why I'm here. Because I know how bad it looks and I know how being seen with me will affect your sister going forward. She was dancing with me because I saw her dancing alone and wanted to join her. That's it, at its simplest; I just wanted to dance with her.

"I thought we were safe. I thought we had nothing to fear from the press because all day we'd turned them away and we didn't think there was any way one could slip into that fair. As for your lawyer he's right I'm afraid. A lot of what was said, though not strictly true, wasn't strictly untrue either.

"She was employed by my company, via your company, to do a job on my behalf. That does make me her employer in the strictest sense. We were alone, we were dancing. The rest is opinion and you can't sue for opinion. I've tried.

"As for what I've done that's an interesting question. The short answer is nothing much, the long answer is I'm adored by those who make money from my business and loathed by those who are of an environmental bent."

"But who fucking cares who you dance with?" Jasper hissed across the table at me.

"Nobody should," Seth said, inserting himself into the conversation, probably in an attempt to cool things down a little. "But Edward is a very high profile businessman and up until now he's been a bit of a mystery to the press. They don't like mysteries. They like drama, soap operas and a private life that isn't quite so private. So they dig and they dig and if they find something they run with it. They hardly ever find anything about him so they make it up.

"We sue when it's lies and say nothing when it's not. He'd just decided to try and make some inroads with his public image and that's why we hired your firm to set up the fun fair. Obviously something's gone wrong. This time they found something, took pictures of it and found it rather easy to sell it. I don't believe this is anything to do with them dancing," Seth said firmly.

"Then what do you believe it's about then?" Jasper asked.

"Someone wants to hurt one or both of them," Seth replied simply.

"We met with Jake today, it's not him," Jasper told us.

"Is that a personal opinion or have you checked?" Seth asked.

"A bit of both," Jasper said evenly. "Look, the thing you have to know about Jake is that he does nothing unless there's something in it for him. None of us can think what he stood to gain by shopping Bella to the press. In fact, the article was less than complimentary about him seeing as their engagement was broken very suddenly and nobody knew why at the time. If he had something to gain he'd have gone on the record before the article appeared. He didn't and that's obvious because if he had he'd make sure he was directly quoted. He loves nothing more than to see his own name in print."

"Don't I know it," I hiss.

"That aside," Seth interjected, steering the conversation back to the point, "Edward has had a stormy professional relationship with Jake since the first day he registered his company. Jake never misses a chance to attack and he'd never pass up an opportunity to discredit Edward in the press. That's exactly what's occurred here, Edward's character has been brought into question. He's been accused of abusing his position to take advantage of your sister. His business practises have been called into question and that has been Jake's aim for years."

"I can see what you mean," Jasper sighed. "So maybe it has come from Jake. Two birds with one stone sort of thing?" he mused and I asked him to go on, to clarify his thoughts. "Well, he'd banked on marrying Bella a few years ago. He was finding it tough going to be the face of an environmental action group that had affiliations with a family oriented political party when he wasn't married and had no family himself. Bella was his answer to that. Marry her, instant credibility and the prospect of him having a family didn't hurt his cause either.

"He was very angry when Bella called it off even though it was his own fucking fault," he snarled. "And if he's been trying to get at you for years he might have thought he had the perfect chance to get at you both with this. Her for revenge, you just because he hates you."

"It's possible," Seth mused but I was caught up in thoughts of Isabella being injured at the hands of a piece of shit like Jake Black.

"Edward?" Jasper asked and I was jolted back to the present.

"What? Sorry, I missed that," I had to admit.

"I asked if there was anyone, like Jake, who you knew who would benefit from getting at both of you at once?" Jasper asked.

"Not that I can think of, no," I told him. "I have a few rivals in the steel business, but nobody who'd risk their own reputation to do this."

"And personally? Is there someone who'd be pissed enough at you to do this, making Bella just collateral damage?" he asked.

I looked at Seth and I could see that behind his eyes his head was running through names. He shook his head when I did. "No, not that I can think of," I told Jasper.

"So we're back to Jake," he sighed. "Any ideas how we find out for sure?"

"I'm on it," Seth said, getting to his feet. "I'll make some calls, find out if I can link the journalist with him in any way," he said to Jasper then turned to me. "I need to go to a meeting, are you staying here or do you want me to drop you at home?"

I didn't need to think on it. "Isabella's bringing back Chinese, I'm staying here for a bit."

"I'll leave a man on the street opposite. Stay indoors if it's possible. If I'm not back by the time you need to leave call me, I'll send my man over to collect you and to drive you home. Thanks for your hospitality," he said to Jasper, who had risen to his fee too. I watched them shake hands over the expanse of the desk and then Seth left.

"He's a little intimidating," Jasper chuckled as the front door closed.

"That's what I pay him for."

"I can be intimidating too, if needed," he said pointedly.

"I have no doubt," I replied evenly. "But I'll never give you a reason to need to intimidate me."

"We'll see," he sighed. "Let's have a drink while we wait for the girls to come back," he suggested and I followed him out of the study and back into the kitchen.

**BPOV**

"I don't understand him," I told Alice as we drove to the Chinese take out place. "Just when I think I've got him figured out something happens, or he does something unexpected, and I'm thrown for a loop all over again."

"I know you don't like to be kept guessing," she said as she turned left into the service road where the restaurant was.

"I don't," I admitted. "I never knew what Jake was thinking, or what he was going to do next."

"Are you looking at Edward as someone you could be with then?" she giggled. "I mean, if you weren't it wouldn't matter if you could predict him, right?" she asked as we got out of the car.

"I don't know," I said truthfully as I closed my door and joined her on the pavement. "I only met him three days ago."

"Sometimes that's all it takes," she said as she looped her arm through mine. "I knew Jasper was the one after five minutes."

"I remember," I told her as we went inside.

I let her order while I stared into the giant fish tank that ran the length of the wall where the waiting area for pick-ups was.

Was I looking at Edward as someone I could potentially be with? He'd asked me not to date anyone else, not that I had dated anyone at all since I left Jake, and I'd agreed. I'd agreed easily. I didn't even ask for time to think on it. I'd just said okay.

I'd seen the situation we'd gotten ourselves into in a totally different way to him. I'd thought the flash of light was the fireworks, it wasn't. I thought he pushed me away because I repulsed him, but he was protecting me. Even when I was on the ground and I thought he was looming over me to hurt me he was only thinking of me, wanting to help me up, get me away from the journalist.

I hadn't let him explain so I'd jumped to conclusions. But he answered everything I asked and hadn't balked at all. And I believed his answers.

I still didn't know why we'd been targeted in that story and I believed that he didn't know either.

I slapped him and he'd ignored the pain in his cheek to take care of my hand.

He comforted me when there were far more derogatory things written in that article about him than about me.

I'd only thought of myself and how the article affected me, but he'd only thought of me.

Edward Cullen thought of me. He promised he'd never hurt me, or anyone and I believed that too. He said he'd apologise to my father. He'd compensate my brother. He hated interviews but he said he'd give as many as it took if I couldn't find a job because of the article. He'd checked with the university on my behalf!

Who did that? Who went that far for someone they'd only met three days before?

He _had_ to be a good man. Despite my first impression of him, or rather my first few impressions of him, now that he'd explained I could see that I'd been wrong. I hoped I'd been wrong.

He still confused me. I still didn't know which persona was really him but he'd admitted he didn't know either.

The man I'd seen waiting by the stage before his speech had been vulnerable and frightened. The one on the stage a few minutes later had been confident and in control.

Could it be that professionally he was exactly what he'd been reported to be? Ruthless when it came to getting what he wanted, obviously quite brilliant in his chosen field and arrogantly aloof with the press?

Could it be that in private he was exactly what I'd thought him to be when I'd watched him before that speech? Shy, self conscious, nervous and unsure?

Should anybody have the right to insist that he meld the two together to conform to what the press wanted his image to be?

Could I keep the two separate myself and not take offense at him in business mode, while enjoying the sweet, gentle man he seemed to be in private?

Did I want to try?

"Bella?" I heard my name and turned to see Alice standing above me, smiling down at where I sat seemingly engrossed in the fish.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Why are you crying?"

"Am I?" I asked stupidly as I swiped at my eyes. "I don't know, Ally."

"Come on, sis, let's get this home and get you some answers."

I'd sat there so long that she'd ordered our food, they'd cooked it and she now held it in two white plastic bags in her hands. I'd stared at those fish so long, and I was so lost in my own thoughts, I hadn't noticed a thing around me.

"What happened in the kitchen?" she asked softly as she steered the car towards home.

"We just talked."

"Was he mad that you slapped him?"

"Not at all," I told her truthfully. "I made a cold pack for his cheek but he kept it pressed to my hand the whole time."

"Wow," she whistled through her teeth.

"Yeah, wow."

"Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer, but I'd like to know."

"Sure," I told her.

"Why were you dancing with him at the fun fair?"

"Because he asked me to."

"You don't dance."

"Apparently I do with Edward Cullen," I giggled because I couldn't help it.

"Yeah, apparently you do with Edward Cullen," she giggled back and we spent the rest of the drive talking about just how handsome he was as though we were back in high school again.

**EPOV**

Jasper and I took our drinks to the living room and through the glass beside the front door I saw our next problem. There was a white, unmarked van parked on the street and coming out of it were three guys. One with a camera, one with a microphone and one with a boom mic.

"Shit," I hissed and set my drink on an end table. I had my phone to my ear before Jasper was able to fully comprehend what he was seeing. "Seth, it's me. I've got press here at Jasper's house. Advise," I barked into it.

"Two minutes, keep this line open," he barked back and I knew he was on it. It's what he did.

"Who are they?" Jasper asked, peering through the curtains of the living room now.

"Come away," I told him and thankfully he did. "Press. They want a comment. They want to make life uncomfortable until one of us makes a statement," I hissed, running a hand through my hair in frustration.

"What do we do?" he asked, the alarm evident on his face and in his voice.

"We wait," I told him. "Seth needs two minutes and then he'll tell me what he needs us to do."

"But the girls are out there, they'll be here any minute," he all but shouted.

"I know," I said as calmly as I could manage. "Just let Seth do his thing and we'll make it as easy as possible for them to come home."

I answered my phone on the first ring.

"Jared's across the road, he's got an eyeball on them. Tyler is telling me the ladies are eight minutes away. You've got two choices here, boss. You let this unfold as it will and you call Bella and tell her to say no comment when she's asked. Or, you let me extract you and we draw them away. Your call, boss."

"One minute, stand by," I tell him and cover the mouthpiece of my phone with my hand while I address Jasper. "Choice to be made. Do nothing and tell Isabella to say nothing as she comes into the house or I leave and draw them away in plain sight."

"Fuck," he mumbled. "Is there any way they know you're here already or is this about Bella?"

"Does anyone know I'm here?" I ask in to my phone.

"Probably if whoever is behind this knows your vehicle, but there's no way for me to know right this second. Time's ticking, boss," he said.

"We don't know for sure," I tell Jasper.

"Will it make things worse if you stay or if you go?" he asks.

"Either way it'll feed the fire," I say sadly because I knew that it would.

"Do you want to walk away and never see her again?" he asked out of the blue and I couldn't help but cringe at the thought of it. My reaction must have been pretty evident because he grinned at me without me having to say a word. "Call her, tell her to make no comment," he said firmly and I nodded.

He advanced to where I stood and pointed his finger at my chest. "But she doesn't go through this alone," he snarled. "If you're serious, and she means anything to you at all, even at this early stage, you'll go out there and walk through that mess with her," he said, turning his pointed finger from me to the direction of the front of his house and the waiting press.

"Deal," I told him immediately. "I'll meet her at the car, we'll do it together," I tell Seth into my phone.

"Jared will be at the driveway; Tyler will drive in directly behind the ladies, blocking them in and the press out. Wait where they will pull up. Head up. Chin up. Don't fidget. Use a clear voice when you greet her. Your choice whether you help her out of the car or whether you touch her as you walk to the door. You let Alice go ahead of the two of you. You stay by Bella's side. You don't respond to baiting. You ask for privacy only if you absolutely have to and any direct personal question is answered as no comment if you absolutely have no choice but to speak to them. Go directly into the house. You don't turn. You don't wave. You don't sigh, cough or fart close enough to the press to be overheard. Open the front door for the ladies, usher them inside, go inside yourself. Clear?" he asked.

"Clear," I told him and hung up.

**BPOV**

The caller ID told me it was Edward calling and I debated whether or not to answer it. But in the end curiosity got the better of me and I did. His voice told me something was wrong long before he spelled out what it was.

"Ask Alice to pull over, please," he begged and I did as he asked.

"Okay, we're stopped," I told him once she'd pulled the car over into the emergency lane at the side of the road. "What's going on?"

"There's absolutely no need to be frightened," he led with and of course, as everyone does, I got frightened. "Look behind you. Do you see a plain black sedan? It should've pulled over behind you."

I looked and it was there, stopped behind us. "Who is that?" I asked into my phone.

"Put me on speaker," he instructed and I did.

"Alice, Isabella, the car behind you is Seth's man, Tyler. He's there to protect you, not hurt you and you can trust him with your life, I swear, okay?" he said and we both said okay.

"Good. Now, the press is waiting for you at Jasper's house. There is a white van parked in the street and you'll see three men there. They can't come onto private property so I want you to pull right up into the driveway, Alice. Tyler is going to pull in right behind you."

"Alright," she said shakily.

"I'll be there, Isabella. I'll be waiting in the driveway for you both and when you get there get out of the car calmly as though you don't know the press is there. Speak only to me, if you want to speak. I'll walk with you to the house and we'll go inside. We won't talk to them, we won't look at them and we won't respond if they call out questions or nasty comments. Okay?"

"Okay," Alice answered for us both.

"A private word now, Isabella," he said and I pushed the button to take him off speaker phone.

"Yes," I managed to croak.

"I can leave now, not be here when you get here. I can draw them away, make them follow me. I'll make me the story, not you and not us," he told me solemnly. "I don't want to make this decision for you, but I need to know. Are you willing to be seen with me this way?"

"Yes," I said softly.

"Think on it, be sure, Isabella," he said.

"Yes," I said more confidently, though right then I didn't actually feel more confident.

"Thank you," he seemed to sigh and I thought it might be in relief. "Tell Alice she should drive carefully, not slowly but carefully and everything will be just fine. I'll see you in a few minutes."

"I'll tell her," I replied and ended the call. "Edward says we can drive now."

She put on her blinker and took us steadily back out into the traffic. Tyler, in the car behind, followed.

"I think I like him," she giggled a few minutes later as we turned into Jasper's street and saw for ourselves the white van.

"What about that conversation makes you like him?" I laughed.

"He's so forceful. I bet he's brilliant in bed," she giggled as we pulled into the driveway, Tyler right behind us.

I slapped her on the arm and giggled too but now that we were there I felt the nerves rise up in me. But he was there, right where he said he'd be and that made me feel a little better. I gathered the plastics bags that contained our dinner from the backseat and pulled them onto my lap in readiness to get out.

Edward opened my door for me, which in any other circumstance would've made me swoon. The flash of the camera went off immediately and I had to blink a few times to get rid of the white light in my eyes.

Had I known that first photo was going to be the one in the paper the next morning I'd have tried harder to smile.

**EPOV**

They were so fucking brave I thought as I waited in the driveway for them to arrive.

The journalist had been shouting questions at me for the past three minutes, in rapid fire style, and I wanted so desperately to tell him to fuck off but I knew I couldn't.

I did what Seth told me to do. Head up, chin up, my suit coat buttoned, my tie straight. I didn't fidget and I didn't rub my fingers through my hair though I really wanted to.

The flash of the camera as the car pulled in blinded me for a second but by the time Alice had brought the car to a stop I could see clearly enough to find the doorhandle with no problem.

I held out my hand for her and she put hers in mine without hesitation. That little sting hit me again as our skin met but I had no time to think on what it was and why it kept jolting me. She stepped down out of the high SUV and then we were there, face to face, in front of the press.

"Are you okay with being seen with me this way?" I asked her softly, smiling down at her because I already knew her answer.

She nodded but I needed more.

"Say it," I begged. "Out loud. Are you okay with being seen with me this way?" I asked again.

"I am, Edward," she whispered and smiled up at me so beautifully I thought I might swoon.

"Come inside, ladies," I said a little more loudly as Alice joined us on the passenger side of the car. I did my best to ignore Tyler who was now sat in his car with it switched off. "Our dinner will be getting cold," I said loud enough for the press to hear. The smile on my face was genuine, not put there for the press. It was as real as I felt as I heard her give me her answer.

Alice went ahead of Bella and I as we'd discussed, and within another minute all three of us were inside safe and sound and I could let out the breath I felt like I'd been holding for days.

Alice fell into Jasper's arms the instant she was inside the door and I watched them embrace with a green tinge of envy to my sight.

At first I thought I imagined the light touch on my hand but after another second I knew it wasn't imaginary. Isabella had shifted slightly and had the back of her hand pressed to the back of mine. It was a simple thing to turn mine and take hers and as her fingers curled around mine I heard her let out a soft, breathy sigh.

"Thank you," she whispered and I couldn't help but smile again.

I wasn't facing her and I doubted she could see my face – and I didn't want to turn to face her straight on – so I simply asked what for.

"For being right where you said you'd be," she replied softly as we watched her brother and his fiancé embrace.

I knew what she was saying and I knew what she meant. I'd asked her to let me show her the real me and she was thanking me for doing so.

"I don't break promises unless I have a very, very good reason," I told her quietly.

"I'll try and remember," she whispered.

"I seriously need a drink after that," Alice trilled as she led Jasper towards the kitchen by the hand. "What about you two?" she called over her shoulder.

I'd already had one with Jasper but I wasn't driving so I said I'd love one. Bella eyed me, a little cautiously I thought, before saying she'd like one too.

It didn't take me long to put two and two together and work out what the look had been for. Just before we were to step around the archway and enter the kitchen properly I tugged on her hand, which was still in mine, and faced her.

"I'm not usually a drinker," I tell her pointedly. "I had one beer with Jasper while you were collecting dinner. I don't drink and drive, ever. I do have a glass of wine with dinner sometimes but I can't remember the last time I got drunk."

The corner of her lip lifted into a little, tentative smile as she nodded her head. "Jake drank," she whispered as she stared up at me. "The more he drank the more physical he got."

"Understood," I tell her because I did understand now. "Let's eat, I'm starving," I say to lighten the mood.

"Me too," she said before skipping away, breaking our handhold, "We got sweet and sour pork and there's spicy beef and cashew nuts too. Alice likes satay and Jasper's favourite is pork with plum sauce, but we all share. Come on," she called and I followed happily behind her.

I didn't quite know what I expected but a rowdy family meal wasn't it.

I thought perhaps they'd want to demob about the press thing outside? Maybe rant and rave, a few tears from the girls? Jasper might have lost his temper with me, demanded I have nothing further to do with his sister? Even for Isabella herself to drop her bundle and demand I leave the house forthwith.

But no. What I got was a lot of laughter, some very good spicy beef with cashew nuts and an insight into how this family worked.

Alice opened a very nice bottle of red and we each had just the one glass over the meal which suited me just fine. Bella doled out the fried rice while Jasper set out plates and cutlery. I was tasked with opening the bag of prawn crackers and then the four of us sat down to eat.

Simple as that.

No recriminations.

No theories.

No blame.

There was a lot of laughter about certain things we'd all seen and heard at the fun fair and a fair few lewd jokes about Mike, Jessica and Lauren who I learned worked in the kitchen for Swan Catering.

We laughed about Emmett's penchant for childish pursuits and talked about my parents philanthropic works. Alice mentioned she was meeting Rosalie for lunch the next day and that set off another round of conversation about my family.

I heard about Charlie Swan, Jasper and Isabella's divorced father who lived in a little town a couple of hours drive north of Sydney and I told them about my mother's sister Sue who lived not far from his home.

I explained about what it was I actually did with the steel I produced and they each asked pertinent and intelligent questions about the processes.

Isabella told us about her first day back at university and I got to explain how I knew, and who I'd asked, about the Governance committee.

The whole evening was relaxed and jovial. For the first time in a long time I was able to forget about anything outside of the four walls I sat in. I could put out of my mind that the press were likely to still be camped outside and were probably now outside my home as well.

I'd taken off my suit jacket when I'd ushered the girls indoors and I'd loosened my tie as the meal wore on. I sat with Isabella to my left, Alice across from me, and Jasper across from his sister. I'd slung my arm across the back of Isabella's chair some hours ago and found myself subconsciously rubbing the long strands of her beautiful dark hair through my fingertips.

I wasn't self conscious about having to ask questions if I didn't get their 'in jokes' and nobody cared if I fidgeted out of nerves now and then. Nobody cared that the wine wasn't vintage or that we'd slopped rice and sauces on the tablecloth.

I told jokes I couldn't possibly tell to my other friends or any of my colleagues and I laughed at jokes I'd have been forced to condemn in any other company.

Most telling of all I didn't once look at my watch or wish that I could signal Seth to get me out of there.

In hindsight I spent what, to date, had quite possibly been the best night of my adult life that didn't involve my family.

**BPOV**

Edward fit.

There wasn't any other way to describe him or the situation. He just fit. Right there with me and with us as a family.

He was sharp and funny, supportive and interested in the conversations though he probably had no clue who half the people were we were talking about.

He seemed relaxed and very appreciative of the food, wine and the company.

He'd been rubbing my hair through his fingers for hours and I wondered if he even knew himself that he'd been doing it. I liked it. I liked it a lot. It was gentle and intimate without being domineering or possessive.

I began to dread the time. The clock on the wall in Jasper's kitchen read eleven and I knew he was going to have to leave soon. He'd probably stayed longer than he'd intended already and I knew he'd have to be up at the ass crack of dawn for work too.

I had a class myself the following day that I fully intended to go to now that I knew the governance committee weren't gunning for me.

And that threw up another problem for me. I had no idea if the press had now taken up residence outside my building. If they had how would I get inside?

"You're frowning," Ally said across the table. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm thinking about how to get home," I tell her. "If the press are here they're probably at both our homes, right?" I ask Edward who nods sadly in confirmation. "So how do we go home?"

"You know you can stay here," Jasper offered, which I knew he would.

I'd stayed at his place a hundred times since he'd bought it. I even had some of my clothes here and a few toiletries in the little bathroom upstairs that I used when I did. But that wasn't the point. I wanted to go to my own home.

"You too, Edward. You're welcome to stay too," Jasper added and I was so grateful to him for it.

"Thank you," Edward replied, smiling widely, "I really appreciate the offer but I'm used to this and I know that you aren't, Isabella," he told me softly. "Seth will collect me when I call for him and, if you want to go to your own home we will take you. I can do exactly what I did earlier and walk you to your door if the press are there, or Seth can escort you in if you'd prefer?"

"What do you think?" I asked Alice and my brother.

"You know you can stay here, but you have to go home at some point, unless you just want to sell it and move?" Alice asked.

I cringed at the thought. It wasn't that I was particularly attached to my apartment, I wasn't. It was just somewhere to sleep really, but I hated the idea of _having_ to sell it and move because of the press. It felt like a cop out. Like I was running away. Like I'd done something wrong and I hadn't.

"I won't let them force me out," I said matter of factly. "Neither of us has done anything wrong."

"Exactly," Edward added, a little bit proudly I thought. "And you're right not to want to let them force you out. They can't camp there forever because there really isn't a story to be had here. So I'll call Seth and we'll take you home and make sure that it's safe for you there."

I was grateful and said so but was also a little sad that our evening was coming to a close.

Edward excused himself to call Seth and explain what was happening and while he stepped out of the dining room I helped Alice clean up our mess.

**EPOV**

I asked Seth to come and collect me and informed him we'd be seeing Isabella home first. He asked for ten minutes to have the area around her building scouted and I agreed. I had no idea where she lived but wasn't surprised that he did. It's what Seth did, after all.

I went back into the dining room a little sorry that the fun and frivolity of the evening had to come to an end but it was getting late and I'd already thought about what Isabella would do at the end of the evening before she mentioned it herself, so I was prepared to have to say my goodbyes to her.

Prepared but not willing.

Plus, I didn't want to have to make those goodbyes in public and definitely not in front of a press contingent at her home. I'd much rather do it at her brothers, knowing she was spending the night there in safety.

But she'd made the decision to go to her own home and whilst I respected that, and was proud that she was standing up for herself with the press, I did worry about her being alone in her apartment.

The press were notoriously sneaky. If there was a way to get at her without trespassing they'd do it, and some wouldn't worry about trespassing laws either. I didn't know if she had a balcony or a basement. Those were the usual points of entry for photographers and if there was any chance to get shots of her from a higher position – like a building with higher floors that overlooked hers – then they'd have scoped that out already too.

"All clean," Alice announced once she'd pressed start on the dishwasher.

"Seth will be another five minutes," I told the others. "He's just making sure the building is secure and that you'll be safe there on your own overnight," I told Isabella herself.

"He knows where I live?" she asked. "Of course he does," she giggled before I could reply. "I bet he knows all about me by now, doesn't he?"

"Probably," I shrugged though I knew she was right. "Please don't be offended by that. It's been his job to protect me for years now and he takes it very seriously. He's very discreet. He'd never disclose information about you. About any of you," I told the other pair too.

"I'm not offended, I'm grateful," Isabella said with a smile and I relaxed just a little. "Does he have a brother?" she asked.

"No," I answered but couldn't work out why she'd asked.

"Relax," she chuckled and cuffed me on the upper arm. "I was making a joke. You know? 'Does he have a brother who I could hire to guard me like he guards you?'"

"Oh, I get it," I chuckled. "He doesn't have a brother but he's assigned Tyler to you for now until he vets someone more permanent."

"What?" she screeched. "What do you mean more permanent?"

"Um, we might just go and um, go and ...yeah, we're gonna go for a minute," Jasper chuckled as he led Alice from the room.

Isabella waited until her brother and his fiancé were out of earshot and then she rounded on me.

"Don't you think it should be up to _me_ to decide if I want a bodyguard?" she seethed.

"I do. I do think it should be up to you to decide. But, had you considered it yet?" I asked as calmly as I could.

I watched differing emotions flit across her beautiful face until she settled on one that looked a little like resigned. "Fine," she sighed. "I can see your point. I hadn't thought about it. Not yet. But I would have, eventually," she said through clenched teeth as she pointed at me sternly.

The Swans were pointers.

They liked to punctuate a point by pointing. I could live with that.

"I know you would have, you're brilliant," I said, grinning, trying to look charming and hoping I didn't look like the village idiot. "And I also know that finding a good one, a trustworthy one, takes time. Seth has Tyler and Jared on the books to be shadows for me. That's someone who guards someone but isn't seen to be doing it," I told her. "You are welcome to use either of their services until you find a man of your own."

"Thank you," she said and I could tell it was grudgingly. "But I'll pay him myself. Not you."

"As you wish," I chuckled, a little turned on by her display of independence and that wonderful stubborn streak she had. I doubted she'd be able to afford Tyler so I'd get Seth to give her a price she could afford, minus half, and then I'd top the payment up. She'd never need to know.

"Are we even sure I'll need someone longer term? Other than just today or this week? I mean, you said it yourself, there's no story here," she asked.

This time I sighed heavily. "I'm sure," I told her sadly. "This won't go away quickly I'm afraid. Someone somewhere is paying for this. Someone somewhere wants this to be a story and they won't stop until we find them or an actual story comes of it."

"An actual story?" she asked, an eyebrow raised in my direction.

"Proof of impropriety between us. Employer," I said, pointing to my chest, "and employee," I said pointing to her. "And I know that you don't work for me, but it won't matter. Right now Seth thinks it's someone wanting to expose my private life in such a way that I come off looking like the monster I'm thought to be. Could be a rival, could be personal. Could be about you rather than me, we don't know. Until then, and while the money keeps flowing, they'll dig."

"Today's story said I was engaged and I'm not. Everyone will think I'm cheating with you unless I tell them otherwise. That'll hurt your reputation, and mine for what it's worth. I should just make a statement and say that it's not true," she mused.

"You could," I agreed, "but then the story will become that you and I are an actual item and it will continue from there."

"Christ," she snarled. "You haven't even asked me out and here I am being cut down in the press for sleeping with you while I'm supposedly engaged to Jake!"

"Go out with me?" I asked abruptly, pulling her up from her rant.

"What?" she asked.

"Go out with me?" I asked again. "Let me take you out to dinner? We could see a movie or something. Go to a club or see a show? Bowling?" I asked with a chuckle when I saw her crinkle up her brow at my other suggestions.

"If we're seen together doing any of those things, and just so you know I down bowl, ever, won't it just feed the story that isn't really a story at all?" she asked.

"It will," I agreed. "But, we're already being pilloried. They'll continue to print that we're seeing each other, especially now that they know I was here tonight, so we might as well actually be seeing each other, no?"

"Pilloried?" she asked with a smile and I nodded. "Fancy word there Mr Cullen. And could you make it sound like you actually want to take me out on a date instead of 'well I'm being accused of it might as well just do it'? Please?"

"Shit," I cursed and ran my hand through my hair in frustration. "I didn't mean it like that. I swear I didn't. It came out wrong."

"I know," she laughed and reached for my hand, bringing it down and settling it back at my side. "You do that when you're frustrated or frightened, right?" she asked and I nodded, embarrassed. "Kinda cute," she mumbled. "And I know what you meant. Yes Edward, I'll go out on a date with you. But no bowling," she said, once again pointing to my chest to make her point.

I grabbed the tip of her finger and brought her whole hand to my lips. I kissed her knuckles and kept hold of her hand when I lowered it. "You point to make your point. Kinda cute," I mumbled, just as she had. "No bowling, got it. Seth's going to call me in a second to let me know how things sit at your building. Will you allow me to walk you to your door?" I asked, hopefully.

"I'd like that," she whispered.

We were back to whispering between us and I liked it. I didn't know why we did it. But when things between us got heavy, or very personal, we slipped into whispering and I liked it.

My phone rang right then and I had to step away.

"Boss, it's me," Seth told me as I answered and I mouthed who it was to Isabella who nodded that she understood and then pointed to where her brother and Alice had retreated.

"Go ahead," I said into my phone.

**BPOV**

I found Jasper and Alice in the living room, curled up on the sofa almost asleep.

"Sorry guys, long night," I sighed as I plopped down onto the opposite sofa. "Edward's talking to Seth and then we're going to head off. I'm so sorry about all of this," I told them both.

"It's kinda exciting," Alice giggled.

Jasper pinched her on her arm and rolled his eyes at her before turning to me. "Be careful," he told me and I nodded that I would. "Do what Seth tells you to do, he seems to know what he's doing in all this. And make sure all your doors and windows are locked before you go to bed. And leave your phone switched on overnight."

"Yes dad," I said sarcastically.

"Well, if dad was here he'd tell you to do the same so thanks for the compliment," my brother said, grinning. "So are you going to let Tyler guard you then?" he asked more seriously.

"I am," I told him straight up. "At least for now anyway."

"Good. And what's the plan moving forward?" he asked.

"I guess we let Seth do his thing, whatever that is, and see what he can find."

"And with you and Edward?" my brother asked, looking more like our father than ever as he did.

"Are you asking me if I've got a boyfriend, dad?" I giggled.

"Yes. Do you?" he asked, still being serious.

"Well, he's asked me out on a date and I've said yes, so maybe," I shrugged.

Alice was just about bursting out of her skin, fully awake now. She said nothing but she did put her finger to her ear and one to her lips and mouthed 'call me'.

"Tomorrow Alice, between classes," I laughed and got to my feet to stretch. "Thanks for today, and tonight you guys. And I'm sorry this whole thing has landed on your front door too."

"Don't worry about it," Jasper said matter of factly. "We'll sort it out and you and your _boyfriend_ can give us credit in your memoirs."

I huffed, pretending to be offended but leant down to kiss my brother on his cheek anyway. I told Alice good night, told them both that I loved them, and then went to the bathroom and to gather my things.

When I came back out Edward was saying his goodbyes so I waited at the front door for him. I could see through the side lights that the press guys were still out, only now there were three white vans and twice as many men and women standing on the sidewalk waiting for us. And then there was Tyler, still sitting in his car behind Alice' SUV.

When Edward joined me I told him I felt awful that Tyler had sat there all night while we'd had a lovely time.

Edward smiled down at me, raised my hand to his lips and kissed it again and then kept it in his as we moved to the door. "It's what he's paid to do, Isabella. Now, Seth has my car across the street and we're going to walk down the drive, past Tyler, and straight to my car. We won't speak to the press, we won't answer any questions and we won't flinch, alright?"

"Right," I told him firmly.

I squared my shoulders, clutched my bag in my free hand and waited until he opened the door for us. The flash of the cameras went off immediately but I tried not to flinch. Edward squeezed my hand and we were off.

Questions were shouted at us as we walked and I found myself pressing up against Edward's side in fear. He didn't falter though. He squeezed my hand rhythmically with each step and even as the questions became more insistent, and more impertinent, he didn't respond.

I drew strength from his strength and as we stopped at the curb to check for passing traffic before crossing I let my shoulders relax a little.

"Good girl," he whispered beside me and gave my hand another squeeze before we stepped onto the road.

Seth was there, holding the back door to a Mercedes open for us and Edward held my bag while I got inside. Then he was there, sitting beside me and before I knew it Seth was in the driver's seat and we were away.

"God they don't give up, do they?" I asked as we turned out of Jasper's street.

"No, they don't," Seth replied from the front seat. "But you did very well, Miss Swan."

"You can call me Bella," I chuckled but he wasn't having it.

"There are several journalists camped outside your building, Miss Swan. I've engaged a doorman who has a list of the other tenants who reside there. His name is Stanley and he'll switch out with another man named Ethan when the time comes. Anyone not on the list who wishes to enter will have to be authorised by a resident. I've spoken to each of the other tenants and explained and they are all willing to do so. So if you have invited a friend or relative over you'll need to either let Stanley or Ethan know or they'll call you to vet the visitor when they arrive," he told me as he drove.

I was stunned. "Is that really necessary?" I asked, not caring which of them answered the question.

"I believe it is, Miss Swan," Seth answered sternly. "Mr Cullen has explained to you about Tyler?" he asked and I told him he had, though the use of Mr Cullen threw me a little. He was so formal all of a sudden. "Tyler will switch out with Jared, who you'll meet in the morning when he arrives to collect you to take you to your classes."

"But I can drive myself," I argued.

"I'm sure you can," Seth replied simply. "But Jared will escort you to and from your classes tomorrow. We'll reassess after that."

"Fine," I huffed.

"Will you be accompanying Miss Swan into her building, Mr Cullen?" he asked next.

"I will," Edward told him matter of factly.

"Very good. Please observe the same posture and responses employed at Mr Swan's residence," he instructed.

"Done," Edward replied and it seemed that was that.

My life, for the foreseeable future anyway, had been organised for me and there was nothing I could do about it. Even the assurance that 'we'll reassess after that' didn't appease me much.

**EPOV**

I could've strangled Seth!

He was pissing her off being so formal, refusing to temper his language so the instructions seemed less intimidating for her and I was mad as hell. We'd be having words on the trip back to my house.

I'd felt her relax as we'd crossed the road but now she sat rigid in the seat beside me, staring out the window as she bit her lower lip. She was overwhelmed and probably seriously mad that she was being ordered around. I didn't blame her.

I knew the drill. But I'd balked at it all at the beginning too, just as she was now. I knew how necessary it all was but I didn't want to frighten her by explaining how I knew. I knew she was in danger and that the little bit of personal freedom she was giving up right now was nothing compared just how easily she could be physically hurt if Seth's rules weren't adhered to.

She was also quite likely rethinking having anything to do with me. That thought made my stomach clench with worry. I was too chicken shit to ask her about that though, so I sat in silence, boring a hole in the back of Seth's head while she stared out the window.

The trip to her building was quick and when we pulled up outside it I could see the white vans that denoted a press presence. I hated those fuckers.

"Please wait," Seth instructed and while he got out of the driver's seat and came to open Isabella's door I got myself ready to exit too.

He held her door for her and once she was out I followed. The flash of the cameras went off immediately, the shouted questions followed only a second later.

"Are you living together?"

"Is she the reason you missed the tender deadline for the India deal? Too much of a distraction?"

"Are you pregnant?"

"Is she still your employee?"

"Were you fired for sleeping with him?"

"Will you be picking up her education expenses?"

"Did you swap Jake for Edward out of revenge?"

"Edward are you gay? Is she a cover?

"Your father says he's never met Cullen, are you hiding him? Are you ashamed?"

"Did you get her a place at uni by using your relationship with Belinda Powell?"

"Are you part of a merger agreement between Swan Catering and Cullen Enterprises?"

"Are you trying to clean up your image before another merger, Cullen?"

On and on the questions went, each one more offensive than the last.

This time she didn't flinch and I was so proud of her I couldn't help but whisper that to her as we walked up between the parked cars and into the foyer of her building.

She pulled her hand from mine the second the doors were closed behind us. That was my first sign that she's wasn't alright.

Stanley greeted us and introduced himself and then we were in the elevator going up to her floor. She kept her eyes on the glowing numbers.

She had her key in her hand before we got to her door.

She unlocked it, turned the handle and pushed the door open slightly. Then she turned to face me. I noted that she didn't take her hand off the doorknob.

This was going to hurt.

"Thank you for seeing me home," she said flatly.

"Isabella," I began but she cut me off.

"Go home, Edward. I have a class in six hours and I'm sure you have work to do tomorrow. I've distracted you long enough, you should sort out that India thing," she said flatly.

I knew when I was beaten. I knew when to leave well enough alone. I knew not to push her.

So I did the only thing I could do. I apologised for everything again, I wished her a good sleep and then I left. Going back the way I'd come. Down the elevator, past Stanley, out into the street to run the gauntlet of the press on the return trip.

I so wanted to respond. I so wanted to defend the lovely girl who didn't deserve any of their horrible questions and assumptions. I so wanted to defend myself.

Instead I kept my chin up, didn't fidget and got into the car with Seth.

We drove home in silence. I was too angry and too worried to call him on the way he'd spoken earlier. When we pulled up outside my home I did it all again with the press contingent that had taken up residence outside my home. Chin up, though this time I had gritted teeth. Confident posture, no comments or responses.

I threw my briefcase, keys and wallet onto the hall table and then went to my home office to retrieve my address book. I took it with me out onto the balcony and lit a cigarette. I flipped each page and studied the names on it carefully.

The India question had struck a chord with me. It wasn't widely known that I'd _chosen_ not to put in a tender for the job that had been up for grabs. To anyone else it would look as though I simply let the tender deadline lapse. But I'd done my homework and at first the offer had looked like a goldmine waiting to be claimed. On paper the job looked lucrative and could even have possibly opened up a bigger slice of the Asian market for me. But then, hidden behind dummy corporations and figureheads that had nothing to do with the steel industry I'd found the name of a director of the Indian company that had made me uneasy.

Another Australian Steel manufacturer had gotten the job and I'd been pleased to be able to wash my hands of it.

That had been eight months ago. Why bring it up now? Why would a journalist ask about a deal that I didn't want, didn't apply for, didn't moan about having lost and had gone on the record as wishing the eventual winner of the contract well?

Someone wanted to hurt me. Someone wanted to turn my life upside down. Someone wanted to ruin me if they could and I wanted to know who that was. Now. Before they lost me the chance to have a relationship with Isabella Swan.

That someone knew me. Not vaguely. Not just professionally but personally. That someone held a grudge and the grudge was personal, nothing to do with business.

This wasn't about Isabella Swan. This was about me.

"Seth!" I bellowed when I turned to the S's in my book. He appeared at the glass doors dressed in sweats and with his usual protein shake in his hand. "Here," I hissed, pointing to the name three lines down from the top. "Her, it's her," I told him.

"I haven't found anything linking her to any of this," he countered but I was sure.

"It's her. Look again and this time use her maiden name, Denali," I told him.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading. **

**Please review.**


	7. Chapter 7

**BPOV**

The story and its picture were on page two the next morning. I reasoned that at least it wasn't on the front page again.

The story was less aggressive too. More about Edward and less about me, though my name was thrown in a lot for good measure I thought. I was referred to as 'Bella Swan, formerly of Swan Catering and Events, now student' as though being a student was somehow distasteful. Maybe it was considering I was now linked with the high flying entrepreneur that was Edward Cullen?

The angle this story took had shifted from him being my employer and taking advantage of me in that respect to me being Jake's fiancé and Edward attempting to steal me off his 'publicly acknowledged adversary'.

It listed a few of the times that Jake had tried to block purchases or sales Cullen Enterprises had attempted. It outlined a few times that Jake had spearheaded a 'cause' to limit the damage Cullen Enterprises was inflicting on the landscape. There was a paragraph about a time that Jake had tried to sue Edward's company on behalf of a steel worker who'd been injured whilst operating some heavy machinery. It did mention that the suit was dropped when the worker admitted under oath he hadn't followed well documented safety protocols, but the implication was clear. Jake had spent his career trying to destroy Edward's.

I had no idea why. In all the years I'd been with Jake he spoke about Edward in terms of business, not personally.

The rest of the story went on to say that we'd spent most of the night before at my brothers. Alice and I had arrived bearing take away food – something the writer of the article doubted Edward Cullen had ever deemed worthy of his palate – and that we'd left, together, after midnight.

Jared, my new shadow, sat three tables away from me in the campus cafe and I had to admit that he looked just like any other student in his jeans and t-shirt.

I had ten more minutes before my first lecture began so I finished up reading the article and folded the paper in half, ready to put back on the counter when I returned my cup.

I gathered my things, checked the time on my phone and stood to leave.

Jared did the same. I waited for him to go outside as he'd asked me to do and only when I'd seen him nod at me did I go out there too.

I felt ridiculous.

I felt like everyone was staring at me.

I felt like everyone was judging me.

And worse I felt like I deserved it.

One dance with Edward Cullen and I had gone from the invisible new girl on campus to the bright, new shiny toy that everyone had an opinion about. Groups of girls sniggered behind their hands when I walked by. Guys catcalled or whistled to get my attention. Teachers noticed me for god's sake!

Two days ago nobody knew who I was and nobody cared.

Two days later and everyone knew me!

I was self conscious and uncomfortable as I walked beside Jared in the direction of the lecture hall. He'd coached me how to behave on the ride to campus and I did my best to remember all that he taught me.

I could go where I liked but only if he'd been there first. I could speak to whoever I liked but I had to keep him within my line of sight while I did. When I was in a class he would wait outside and I wasn't to move away from the doors of the lecture hall until he'd eyeballed me first.

I had to try to stay at his side if we were moving about. I had to judge the distance and keep close enough that he could reach out and pull me, or push me, should he need to get me clear of something or someone. He would do the same. Tempering his stride to match mine.

I was no longer allowed to sling my book bag across my chest; it had to sit on one shoulder or the other now. He said it was because someone could pull on it and take me to the ground too easily the other way, so I had to break the habit of a lifetime and move it.

I now carried two phones. Two!

My new one was a dedicated Cullen Enterprises phone that only Cullen Enterprise employees had the number for. I was not allowed to switch it off, ever.

Numbers I didn't recognise that called my personal phone had to be saved so Seth could check them out later. Blocked numbers or those that came up as private were not to be answered under any circumstance.

Any instruction Jared gave me, or Tyler when he was on shift, I had to obey immediately. I shouldn't ask questions first, I should just do as instructed as soon as I could. I would be able to ask questions later, once the danger had passed.

He said it was standard practice and all for my own safety but I didn't like it.

Any chance I had to make new friends was now gone. If there had ever been a chance for me to just finish my degree quickly and quietly that was now gone too.

One dance with Edward Cullen and I felt isolated, afraid and exposed.

**EPOV**

I knew I was being a prick but I couldn't help it. I'd barked at Kate twice in the space of half an hour this morning and Emmett had been on the end of my temper a couple of times already too.

My head was so preoccupied with what was going on with my private life that I couldn't concentrate on what needed doing in my professional one.

It didn't help that I had three very important meetings, back to back, that could secure me two lucrative contracts for supply and one rewarding contract to buy additives for one of my smelters from a brand new company that needed my business.

They were important things and I wanted all of them to go ahead, but I couldn't concentrate.

Every word said in those meetings had me paranoid. Every mention of supplying to Asia had me wondering if I really did know who was behind the campaign against me. Every time I signed my signature I wondered if the deals I'd just struck would come back to bite me, or if they could be used in some way against Isabella.

Isabella.

She'd been on my mind for days but particularly overnight.

Was she alright? Was she still pissed at me? Had she changed her mind about going on a date with me? If I called her would she answer?

Had she read the article in today's paper? Did she hate the picture that went with it? Was her father even angrier today than he was the day before?

Were Jasper and Alice being harassed like my own family were now? Would he know how to handle it, how to keep Alice safe? Would he accept my help?

"Excuse me," Kate whispered as she came to my office door. "Seth says he's been calling your phone for ten minutes but you aren't answering. Should I tell him you're busy or would you like to return his call?"

"Sorry," I grumbled and reached for my phone. "I'll call him. Thanks Kate."

I waited until she'd left and then dialled.

"Tell me about Tanya Denali," was his greeting.

**BPOV**

During my lunchbreak I called Alice like I'd promised. We gossiped for a little bit but I tried to steer the conversation away from Edward as best I could. The night before I'd told her I had accepted an invitation to go out with him but today I wasn't so sure I wanted to.

I let her tell me about how her morning had been and about poor Angela who had had to deal with all the calls at the office asking for information about me. I listened to her excitedly describing the reporters who had followed her to work and about the ones who had taken her picture.

I agreed to talk to her again that night and finished up the call as fast as I could. I didn't want to be caught talking about the situation where I could be overheard and sitting under a tree in the grounds of a busy inner city university was certainly somewhere I could be overheard.

Jared had his back to the same tree I was leaning on so once I'd finished with Alice I put in my headphones, cranked up the music, closed my eyes and was happy to spend the rest of my break thinking.

If I'd been able to answer any of Alice' questions on the call I would've told her that being seen with Edward when we were acquaintances had turned my life on its ear. That I could only imagine what would happen, and what would be reported, if I actually dated him.

I'd have admitted to her that it scared me. That I was afraid that I'd never be able to just be me again if I went out with him. That I'd become Edward Cullen's girlfriend rather than Bella Swan. My identity would forever be tied to his if I dated him.

I'd tell her that I'd never be able to do anything normal again. I'd have a shadow, watchers and I'd be watched.

If I did something silly, or tripped in the street, pictures of it would be in the papers and online in minutes. If I told a joke or wore something deemed unfashionable it'd be reported or commented on.

And if that happened Alice would be watched and commented on as well if she was seen with me.

Was I willing to put up with all that to date him?

As mad as I was at the situation, and as angry and hurt as I'd been last night when those reporters asked those awful questions, I still wanted him.

I liked him. That was the crux of it. I really liked him.

I found myself, once again, wondering about the two sides to his personality and how they seemed to work to make him one whole person.

He wasn't playing a game last night, or faking it either. I'd decided he was actually incapable of being fake by the time the meal was over and we were all sat back with another glass of wine in our hands chatting away.

I came to appreciate that he could be both versions of himself and still remain just Edward Cullen to me.

In private he was fun and flirty, self deprecating and wondrously witty.

I had no doubt that when he needed to be the businessman Edward Cullen of Cullen Enterprises he swapped those traits for what the business world demanded he be. Extremely intelligent in both scenarios he used his smarts in different ways to achieve the same goals.

In business he outsmarted his rivals and out thought his competitors.

Personally he was a deep thinker who I thought genuinely wanted to be liked and wanted to please those around him.

The public never saw that side of him and I was beginning to think with good reason.

Imagine trying to be a hardnosed business man who has to fight the environmental lobby at every turn while the general public, and your colleagues and peers, think you're a soft hearted, gentle man?

It would be impossible.

He'd be a laughing stock in his own industry and everyone who dealt with him would try to swindle him just because he was seen as a nice guy.

It was true that I didn't know him well yet, but what I did know I liked. He was protective without being possessive of me. He listened when I spoke and apologised when he needed to. He'd said more than once that he didn't want to take away my choices and when I did make decisions he abided by them, no questions asked, whether he agreed with them or not.

He'd done nothing that made me think he was the monster the press had him pegged as. He'd done nothing to make me think that Jake's opinion of him all those years ago was a true depiction of who he really was.

And to top it off he made my heart race when he looked at me, my skin tingle when he touched me and the idea of kissing him made me want to feint.

I jumped when Jared tapped me on the shoulder and quickly pulled my earbuds out. "What's up?" I asked, squinting up at him.

"Time to go," he said gruffly.

I got to my feet and looked at my watch. I had twenty minutes of my break left. I was about to mention that when he reached down and put his hands under my shoulders and lifted me to my feet. "I said it's time to go," he whispered lowly to me.

His tone snapped me to attention. Something, or someone, was near me and Jared wanted me gone. So I'd go. I grabbed my bag, slung it over just the one shoulder, fell in beside him and together we marched into the nearest building.

As soon as we were indoors and out of sight he pulled me up.

"Mr Cullen knows who's behind it all," he said quietly, shielding me with his body so we could find a little privacy. "He's asked that you stay indoors if it's possible. The woman responsible is unpredictable and vindictive in the extreme. Seth is on his way and he'll be taking you home as I've never met the woman and he's aware of her physical appearance."

"It's a woman?" I asked, shocked. For some reason I'd assumed the bad guy was a guy. "So it's about him, not me?" I asked, relieved for myself and worried for him.

"It seems so, yes," he replied evenly.

"Am I allowed to know her name?" I asked.

"Her name is Tanya Stoker now, but she was Tanya Denali before she married."

"Denali?" I asked and when he nodded I tried to remember if I'd heard the name. "I don't think I know her."

"Good, that might mean she'll leave you alone and concentrate on the boss, but just in case she doesn't he'd like you locked up tight."

"Okay," I answered because really what else could I say? Once again Edward was thinking of me and my safety.

I just had to hope that if Seth was on his way to watch over me that someone equally as good was watching him.

**EPOV**

I was trying to choke down a sandwich when the call came.

My mother was visiting the office, more likely she had come to check on me and to get information about Isabella from me, so she was across from my desk when Seth called.

I pounced on my phone, both startling and alerting my mother that it was the call I'd been waiting for.

"What news?" I asked by way of greeting.

"Tanya Denali Stoker withdrew ten thousand dollars from her trust fund the day before the fun fair," he said matter of factly.

"Can it be traced to the journalist?" I asked.

"Not that I've been able to find yet, no. But I'm not done looking. You know I don't believe in coincidences. The journalist told me he'd gotten ten thousand to find the info. He was paid the day before the fun fair. That's good enough for me to keep digging."

"And what does she have to say for herself?" I asked.

"I haven't asked her anything yet," he replied but before I could curse him dragging his feet he continued. "No point alerting her that I'm on to her too soon. She might stop paying. You know that the best proof of these things is the money trail; I need that to keep changing hands so I can trace it. I know you're frustrated, but I'm on it. If it's her I'll find out how, and why, and I've got guys all over the country working on it."

"I know," I sigh. "And you know I trust you. I just want it to go away."

"And I'll make it go away, trust me on that. Now, can you think of any connection that Tanya may have to Bella?" he asked.

"I can't. I've gone through my address book and can't find a link. If Isabella had a link to her I'd have met her before now because we'd know all the same people. It's possible they crossed paths via Swan Catering, but that's a tenuous link and only a guess."

"I'll put Jared on that," he told me. "In case there is a link, and Bella doesn't know what Tanya's capable of, I'm going to switch out with him right now. He's not familiar with Tanya so he won't be any good spotting her on campus if she shows up there and I don't want your girl exposed to her until we know how far she's willing to go. Any objections to me going to the university and shadowing her myself?"

"She'll hate it," was all I could come up with, "but do it. I'll try and call her but she may not answer. You call Jared, get her locked down, I'll take any consequences that causes onto myself."

"Done," he told me. "You keep your head down, kid. I'm stretched thin with having to watch the two of you, so the quicker I can get both Jared and Tyler a picture of Tanya the better chance I've got of protecting you both. But if you stay put and let me deal with one of you at a time we'll get through this okay?"

"Okay," I sigh. "I'll wait for you here."

"Done," he said and then ended the call.

"Is it true then?" my mother asked the instant I set my phone back onto my desk. "Is it really Tanya who's doing this to you and Bella?"

"Looks that way," I told her sadly, knowing how much proof of it would hurt her, and my father.

"That silly little girl," she hissed. "And I don't think Swan Catering is the link between the two girls, sweetheart. Tanya was never invited to anything I've hired Bella to organise and I know that the Denali's use Morton's Catering."

"Thanks mom, that'll save us some time. Will you excuse me while I try and call Isabella?"

"I'll go and use Kate's phone to call Angela. She can double check to make sure that Tanya, or her family, hasn't booked with them before."

"Good thinking," I tell her as she leaves my office.

I dial Isabella's new phone and hope that she picks up when she sees it's me calling.

"Edward?" she all but shouts and I close my eyes in relief.

"It's me," I tell her. "Are you alright? Are you with Jared?"

"He's here, do you need to talk to him?" she asks.

"No, no. I just wanted to know that you were okay."

"I'm fine. I'm worried about you. Are you okay? Can this Tanya person get near you where you work?" she asks breathlessly.

I close my eyes again because she sounds worried about me. Not angry, not flat like she was when I said goodnight to her the night before.

"I'm fine, darling," I tell her softly, the endearment a slip. "She can't come into the building here and I'll wait for Seth to collect me this evening. You don't need to worry about me. Just be careful yourself. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you because of..." I trail off, too overcome to finish.

"Nothing will happen to me. Jared says it's you she's after, not me."

"Even so, she's used you in the press to get at me so she knows who you are and she'll know you're important to me because you'll be with Seth and he's always with me. It's a risk, Isabella, to be seen with Seth. But he's the best man to be with you. Please do as he says."

"I will. I promise I will. Now you know who it is that's targeting you this will go away and you and I can..." she trailed off.

"Yes," I smirked though she couldn't see me. "This will go away and then you and I can..." I trailed off on purpose.

"I don't understand who she is or why she wants to do this to you, do you?" she asks and I cringe.

I can't lie to her. I won't lie to her and not just because I promised not to. "I do know but it's something I'd like to tell you in person. If you agree I'd like to come and talk to you after work, at your apartment. Will you let me tell you in person?"

"Is it bad?" she asks, avoiding my question and making me uneasy.

"I didn't think it was but I'm now starting to think that she does. Will you let me come over?" I ask again as my mother comes back into my office with Emmett in tow.

I mouth that I've got Isabella on the line and mom nods, holding a finger to her lips to let me know she'll be quiet. Emmett does the same and they both take a seat opposite my desk to wait.

"I'm so sorry I was rude to you last night," she says, avoiding the question again. She's speaking quite quickly and I think she might just be a little overwhelmed so I let it go while she talks. She sounds like she needs to talk.

"The questions they asked were so awful, and I was so nervous, and you weren't and I felt so stupid for being afraid when you were so in control. And the questions! Oh Edward, the questions were so awful," she wails.

"I know, darling. I know. And I'm so sorry this is happening. But I have to tell you, I wasn't in control. I was just as nervous as you were. I must have hid it better, that's all. You were so brave and I'm so proud of you. You had every right to be angry with me and I deserved your rudeness. I'll make all this up to you if you'll let me?" I said, posing it as a question so I didn't have to beg her to let me go over there tonight in front of my mother and brother in law.

"Please," she sighed, "Please come over when you're done at your office."

"I will then," I say with a grin. "I'll text you as we leave the building so you'll know when to expect me."

"Seth's here," she tells me and I hold in my sigh of relief. "He says we have to go now. I'll see you tonight. Be careful, please."

"I will. I'll see you soon," I tell her and end the call happy with the knowledge that Seth was there with her now.

"Is she alright?" mom asks and I proudly tell her that she's doing just fine.

"A little shaken at times, but she's doing just fine with it all. Seth's just arrived so she'll be okay now."

"She's very strong," mom says knowingly. "I've always thought so."

"You called her darling, anything you want to tell your brother?" Emmett asks cheekily.

"Brother in law," I reminded him smugly, knowing he hated it when I did that. "And no. I think I do it subconsciously," I mumble.

My mother is smiling dreamily but says nothing more about that, thankfully.

**BPOV**

I was mortified.

That was the only way I could describe what it felt like to go grocery shopping with a bodyguard.

He walked right beside me as I pushed the cart up each aisle. He never said a word. He just looked left, right, forward and behind constantly and it made me nauseous.

When I got to the personal products aisle I asked him to wait at the head of the row, but no. He had to stand right beside me as I threw soap and tissues, shampoo and toothpaste into that cart. Thankfully I wasn't nearing my period because I'd gladly go without and suffer the consequences rather than buy tampons and pads with Seth watching on. It was bad enough that he now knew I preferred three ply toilet paper!

It would've been okay if he wasn't dressed all in black and totally looked exactly like what he was. Hired muscle. The buzz cut, dark sunglasses – even indoors – phone glued to his right hand, his left always at the ready, he looked like a hired thug.

Of course that's exactly what he was. Someone who was paid to jump into the fray so his charge didn't have to get their hands dirty. I wanted to ask him if he'd take a bullet for Edward, or now for me, but I didn't really want to know the answer when I thought he might say yes.

He stood right in front me as I checked my groceries out and then he settled me into the backseat of Edward's Mercedes while _he_ loaded the shopping into the trunk. I'd protested but he gave me a withering look that I could see even through his glasses and I gave up hoping I'd be allowed to do anything for myself while he was with me.

He left the cart right beside the car, which made me twitch in annoyance because I hated it when I tried to park my car into a free spot only to find a cart blocking it. But there it was as he backed out and drove me home.

He asked me to wait in the foyer of my building, under the watchful eye of Ethan the new doorman slash bodyguard slash god only knew what else, while he went up to my apartment first. It was a long five minute wait considering it was spent in total silence. Ethan had even less of a personality than Stanley and Stanley behaved like a mannequin!

With my shopping bags at my feet I watched the press shuffle out on the street and sighed heavily at the thought of Edward having to move past them just as I had. They were mean and intrusive and I longed to tell them all to just fuck off.

But I did what I was told and squared my shoulders, plastered a fake smile on my face and walked beside Seth to the building. It was a pain in my ass and getting old fast.

As was waiting for Seth. He'd been gone for ten minutes by my watch and I was feeling very self conscious as I stood there, Ethan staring off into space probably to avoid having to look at me.

I heard the lift ding and Seth strode out of it and right to me. He gathered up the shopping, despite my protests, and nodded towards the lift.

Everything was in its place when we got to my apartment, and I did check. The paranoia of it all was getting to me. Every noise was someone breaking in. Every shadow was the press. Every person who I walked by was judging me. If a car backfired in the street I'd probably wet my pants I was so highly strung!

I wondered if Seth was going to stay all afternoon but soon got my answer when he came into my kitchen while I was unpacking the shopping.

"I have some work to do for Mr Cullen," he announced formally. "Ethan will switch with Stan in an hour and forty-seven minutes. If you wish to leave the building Jared will take you. His number is in your Cullen Enterprises phone; please call him to arrange what time you'd like to leave and give him your destination so it can be vetted. Please bolt the door after I leave."

"Okay," was all I could say. I followed him to the door, locked it after he left and sighed at finally, finally being alone.

I unpacked the rest of the shopping and set the meat and vegetables I'd bought for my dinner in the fridge. I turned my radio on, set the kettle to boil and then went into my bedroom to change my clothes. Having to be so properly dressed if I was going out was going to get old fast too I thought as I pulled on some old sweats and a t-shirt.

Next I tipped my book bag out onto the dining room table and set out my assignments. I had nowhere to be, nobody to see and no job to go to. Homework was the only thing I had to fill my hours.

**EPOV**

My afternoon dragged on around me. The whole building was buzzing with productivity but none of that buzz came from my office. A myriad of people came into and went out of it but if I was asked to recount what they'd said while there I'd not be able to. My mind was elsewhere. Still.

I knew she was safe. I knew Seth would protect her with his life. I knew her classes had been completed for the day without incident. Seth had checked in with me numerous times so I knew that she'd been shopping and was at home now, safe and sound.

And yet I still wondered and worried about her.

There was no new information about what Tanya was up to, or even definitive proof that she was who we were looking for. There was nothing new about the journalist that had taken that first picture either and as I stared at it now I wondered if everyone else saw in it what I saw?

I looked like someone I knew a long, long time ago. I looked younger than I did in the mirror every morning and much happier too. I was actually smiling! I hadn't been photographed smiling in a decade but there I was, staring down into those lovely chocolate brown eyes and smiling.

The clothing still didn't fit, of course, and the backdrop of the fireworks I knew was faked, but I looked happy.

Even as grim as the walk from the car in to Jasper's house had been the picture printed from that had me smiling too. Isabella's hand was there in mine as I helped her down from the vehicle but I was smiling as I looked down at her.

A knock on my door brought me out of my thoughts and I quickly shoved the two newspaper cuttings back into my desk drawer as my next visitor entered.

Knowing Seth was with Isabella allowed me to concentrate a little better in the last meeting of the day, but only a little. She was still on my mind. Comments made reminded me of her, conversations or turns of phrase I could relate back to her. I found myself wondering if the deal I was about to sign would make her happy, or would she disapprove.

Isabella Swan had taken over my life and in another hour I was going to run the ultimate risk and explain to her why we'd been thrown into the media snake pit.

Seth arrived to collect me at five and I was never so happy to be leaving the sanctuary of my office. I was usually the last to leave, and as the boss that was rightly so, so I got a lot of strange looks from employees as I marched down the corridors with my briefcase in my hand.

The press couldn't get near me at the office because all our parking was underground and you needed a pass to get into it. Only employees had passes, visitors and the public had to park on the street and announce their arrival before being allowed into a lift.

So it was a simple process for Seth to get me out of the building and out into traffic.

"This traffic will hold us up," he told me as he ducked into a tiny opening in the long line of cars that flanked us. "Text her, tell her we'll be at least half an hour."

I did as he asked and then put my phone into my lap. "How was she when you left her?"

"Preparing to be belligerent," he laughed. "I've never met a woman quite like her. She takes everything in and never complains but you can tell she's seething underneath."

"She is quite remarkable," I grin.

"She hated having to shop with me, but she'll recover," he chuckled as he changed lanes again, narrowly missing another car.

My phone chimed with her reply. "She's asking if I've eaten. She wants to cook for me," I said quietly.

"Well, tell her you'd like that, dumbass," he said hurriedly.

"She doesn't have to cook for me. I can grab something at home later."

"You could, but she's offered and you know you want to," he laughed.

I tapped out my reply and told her she didn't need to, but if she wanted to I'd love to have dinner with her. Seth was still chuckling so I asked him what was so funny.

"It's not funny exactly, just amusing," he quipped. "I've known you a long time, kid. I've never seen you this jumpy, this shaken. It's amusing."

"Hilarious," I said sarcastically. "She's under my skin, Seth."

"I know," he said before honking the horn at the guy in front who hadn't moved away as the light turned green. "And judging by the photos in the paper I'd say you've gotten under hers too."

"Maybe," I say quietly. "Maybe I just got her in a whole lot of trouble and she's being nice to me until it's all sorted out."

"Does she strike you as calculating?" he asked out of the blue.

"No," I had to reply because she didn't. If anything she was a little naive about the kinds of things we'd found ourselves involved in and I liked that.

I found it refreshing. I liked that she didn't expect anything from anyone and that she treated everyone the same. I was wealthy and most would think above her socially, though that was not my view, and yet she treated me just like she treated everyone else. Except for the slap, which I rather enjoyed despite the pain of it at the time. It showed me she was strong both physically and mentally and she'd take no shit from me.

"No, she isn't calculating. I believe she thinks deeply on things, but not to be calculating."

"I think so too," Seth replied as we turned into the street where her building was. The press were still there, of course. "Prepare yourself, they're bored and out for blood today."

"Fantastic," I sneered as I slid my phone into my pocket and prepared to exit the vehicle.

I waited for Seth to let me out and we walked through the crush of press together. Their shouted questions were just as bad as they'd been the night before, but not worse so I clenched my jaw, stuck my chin out and kept a good pace until I was inside and away from them.

I shook Stanley's hand as I thanked him for doing his job and then stopped to talk to Seth a moment before getting into the elevator.

He assured me he'd call if he found out anything new about Tanya or the journalist that he thought I needed to know and I arranged for him to come back and collect me at nine. It was six now and I hoped I'd have time to have the meal with Isabella and explain myself in three hours. But I knew I needed a definitive time that I'd need to leave otherwise I'd be tempted to drag it out, or worse yet, put off telling her. This way I had a goal and timeframe to complete it.

Seth wished me luck and assured me the building was clear and being watched.

Hitting the lift button for her floor was nerve wracking. She'd seemed worried about me and happy to hear from me this afternoon but last night...last night she couldn't wait to get rid of me. I had no idea which Isabella would open the door to me this time.

**BPOV**

The knock came and it startled me. I'd been working down a list of ledger sheets looking for the mistake and had totally lost track of the time. I jumped up, already preparing to apologise for not having even started the meal I'd promised him yet.

I stopped in the hall and checked my face and hair. I tucked what I could back into my ponytail and rolled my eyes at the state of my face. It looked like I hadn't slept for days, which I hadn't, so there was nothing I could do about that.

I raced to the door and yanked it open, my apology on the tip of my tongue.

But it wasn't Edward standing there.

"Hello Bella," the strawberry blonde purred. "Step aside," hissed as she shoved me out of the way.

**EPOV**

I knew something wasn't right the instant I stepped into the lift.

I could smell it. That coppery, rusty smell of blood.

My father had always said I was strange for being able to smell it, and right now I could.

I looked about the elevator car and saw the spots of it on the floor. There was a small smear of it near the button panel and the handrail that ran around the edge of the car has streaks of it too.

I tried to keep my imagination under control as the car moved upwards. After all, someone may have just cut themselves. A blood nose was possible, even an altercation that didn't involved Isabella at all was possible.

As I stepped out into the hallway on Isabella's floor I stepped over a few more spots of blood and I knew. I knew right then, something had happened. The spots led right to her door!

I dialled Seth instantly and as he answered I began bashing on Isabella's door.

"Get back here. There's blood in the lift and it leads to her door," I barked and ended the call. I bashed on the door and began calling for her.

It seemed to take forever for her to come to open it and by then I'd imagined all sorts of horrific scenarios. What state would she be in? Should I have called the police, an ambulance, my father?

"Isabella!" I shouted again as I thumped on that door.

Then I heard her. She was conscious at the very least and then I heard her curse and I began to worry all over again. "Open the door!" I begged at the top of my voice.

"I'm coming," she shouted back and then she pulled the door open and I got my first look at her.

**BPOV**

I'd known he was going to freak when he saw me but I wasn't prepared for how he greeted me.

He was through my door and had me in his huge hands in a heartbeat.

He combed them through my still shower-wet hair and then he ran them over my face and down my neck as though he was giving me an examination.

"What happened?" he barked as he turned me bodily around and checked me out from the back too.

"A friend of yours came for a visit," I told him sarcastically.

"There's blood in the lift. On the carpet in the hall. What happened to your lip?" he asked as he turned me around so I was facing him again.

"Not my blood," I laughed darkly, "at least the blood out there isn't mine."

He hovered over me, his hands now around my jaw and under my ears. "Do you need a doctor? What else is injured?" he asked frantically.

I shoved him away using my palms on his chest. He looked so damn concerned, so worried, that I almost forgot just how fucking angry I was. Almost.

"I don't need a fucking doctor," I spat and he reeled backwards, probably in shock. "I've got a cut lip, that's all. I've had worse," I tell him through gritted teeth.

Seth chose that moment to burst into my apartment. He looked just as frantic, which would've normally been rather touching, but I wasn't in a touching kind of mood. I was pissed.

"Get out," I told Seth quietly.

"Miss Swan..." he began but I cut him off by telling him to shut it.

"It's fucking Bella!" I hissed. "Seth, I'm only saying this once so listen up. Get out. I don't need you here. I don't want you here right now. There is nothing for you to do here. Go downstairs and ask your men how Tanya Denali Stoker, that's her name isn't it Eddie?" I asked Edward who flinched at the nickname I now knew he despised. "Yeah, that's her name. Go down and ask how Tanya Denali Stoker managed to visit me this evening without your men knowing, Seth. Go!" I screamed at him.

He looked to Edward, probably waiting for instructions from his employer but it didn't matter what Edward thought, it was my home and I could tell him to get out if I wanted to.

"Do it," Edward said quietly to Seth who blinked a few times but then went right back out my door again. As soon as the door had shut behind him Edward stepped towards me again, hands out as if he wanted to pull me to him.

"Don't," I seethed. "You stay over there," I said pointing to the living room while I backed away until I was half in the kitchen.

"I just want to make sure that you're alright," he said softly as he retreated.

"Well make sure from over there," I snarled. "I was perfectly alright before I met you, you know," I told him as calmly as I could. "Before I came into contact with the great Edward Cullen I was fine. I had my life under control and I had everything planned out. Nobody harassed me. Nobody stared at me in the street. People didn't snigger and whisper about me when I passed by them and I didn't have half the countries press camped out on my front lawn!" I screamed as I pointed vaguely to where the front of the building was.

"I could come and go here as I pleased. The neighbours were friendly if we saw one another in the hall or in the lift, but not anymore. Now they stare at me and talk under their breath about how if I'm so high and mighty now that I need bodyguards why don't I just go and live with you!

"Before meeting you I didn't have to be frightened to answer my phone! I could have friends and go out and do my bloody shopping without worrying about a hired thug seeing which brand of panty liner I buy!

"I could go to classes without a guy waiting outside the door. I could sit in the coffee shop and get my caffeine fix without having muscle at the next table flinch every time someone dropped a cup or a car screeched its tyres outside.

"I could sit under that beautiful tree in the university grounds and listen to my music, and talk to Alice on the phone about anything bloody thing I felt like talking about before I met you! My brother didn't have to deal with the press, or his phone lines being clogged up by the press while he loses out on work just because I was seen with you!" I ranted.

"I liked this apartment. I liked living here. It's close to campus, close to Jasper and Alice too and it's cheap enough that I could afford to live here and go to school as well without having to live in a rat hole. Now I hate it. Do you hear me? I _hate_ living here now. Every noise sets me on edge. I haven't slept well in this house since I met you and I hate that. I hate it.

"And then today Jared tells me that you and Seth have got a lead on who might be doing this to us in the press and I start to think that maybe all this will go away and I can go back to liking living here when your _friend _Tanya bloody Stoker turns up here and thinks she can push me around in my own home!

"How can that be, Edward? How can she waltz in here and push me around when your thugs are downstairs, huh? You asked me to trust you and I did. And what did I get for it?" I raged. "I got a smack in the mouth and bloodied fucking knuckles, that's what!"

His mouth had fallen open around halfway through my...well halfway through my meltdown I guess I should call it. He just stood there and listened. He didn't look angry at all. He didn't look put out, or offended or even a little bit like he wanted to defend himself. He just stood there and let me yell at him.

And that was new for me. If I'd have yelled even a third of any of that at Jake, no matter how true whatever I was yelling was, he'd have backhanded me into next week.

But not Edward.

He let me rant. He let me yell. He let me swear and curse and the whole time I did he stayed right where I'd told him to stay.

And wasn't that a pisser? I thought.

Everything in my life since I'd met Edward Cullen had gone to shit and when I really, really wanted to hate him he pissed me off even more by being exactly what I suspected he might be all along. A good guy.

He didn't get angry back. He didn't rant back. He didn't yell at me and tell me that half the problem was mine and that I'd done something stupid to bring it all onto myself like Jake would have.

He didn't do any of that.

What did he do?

He kissed me.

Cut lip, bruised knuckles and wet hair from the shower dripping down my back. With me in ratty old sweats and a holey t-shirt I'd had since high school. Right there, in the state I was in he kissed me. Stepped right up to me, cupped me softly around the neck with his lovely, gentle hands and kissed the anger right out of me.

**EPOV**

She was the most glorious, most beautiful, most intelligent awe inspiring woman I'd ever met.

Every single word that came out of her mouth as she yelled and screamed was perfectly true. Every instance where her life was now worse off for having been introduced to me was spot on true too. She swore like a sailor, looked more beautiful in her old torn and stained clothes than she did in a business suit and those eyes...oh those blazing chocolate brown eyes.

I'd started off horrified that she was so angry and that I'd been the cause of it, however indirectly. But my horror turned to something else as I stood there and listened and watched her scream.

She was absolutely right. All she'd gotten since meeting me was trouble and yet she'd thrown Seth out of the place and let me stay.

She was one hundred percent correct in everything that she said and as I watched her eyes flash and her cheeks redden as she ranted she made me feel something I hadn't felt in very, very long time. Horny.

I felt horny. Turned on. I felt hot all over and my heart was racing. I had half a hard on that I desperately wanted to adjust. My hands itched to touch her. My lips ached to taste her.

The more she swore the harder I got.

The angrier she got the harder I got.

She was totally right. I was shit for her. I was nothing but trouble and being associated with me was likely to make her life hell.

And I wanted her.

I hated insipid, blubbering girls who wanted to be coddled. I loathed those girls who accepted everything because they didn't have a voice to say no.

I had no clue what had gone on inside her home that day, and the idea that Tanya had gotten in and done god only knew what scared the hell out of me, but Isabella was here and she was okay enough to give me what for.

So I walked the three paces to where she was, slid my hand around her neck and pulled her lips to mine.

That sting was there. That tiny spark crackled between us as my lips met hers. And my god, the feel of her, the taste of her and all that anger. The hurt and confusion, frustration and belligerence was all there on her tongue.

I tasted it all and I wanted more of it.

I was mindful of the small cut on her lip but I kissed her deeply anyway. If she'd have protested, or given me any inclination that it hurt I'd have stopped. But she didn't so I didn't.

I slid my tongue against hers and heard her moan long and low.

I used my free hand to pull her hips to me and felt her shiver against me.

Her hands went to my hair, her fingers curling through it until she had purchase and then she dug them in, pulling me harder against her mouth. It was my turn to moan then.

She clung to me. I clutched at her. The kiss was as furious as she had been.

It also had to end. We needed to talk. I needed to get some answers from her about what had happened and I needed to give her some answers as to why.

I slowed the kiss and drew away slightly, resting my forehead on hers after. She was panting slightly and I found that I liked her breathless. Hell I liked her any way.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered between us.

"I know you are," she whispered back.

"Seth will find out how this happened," I say softly.

"You keep saying that," she replies.

"I know I do. And I believe that he will."

"I don't think it matters anymore," she said sadly. "I can't stay here now. I'll never sleep, never feel safe here now."

"It matters," I tell her as I begin to rub the side of her throat with my thumb. "It matters to me how this was allowed to happen. It matters to me that you're safe, that you're able to sleep."

"I think I know that about you now," she sighs and tilts her head into my touch a little. "And I'm not ungrateful for everything you've already done to make me safe, but it's not working."

"I know. I'll find a solution," I promise her.

A soft, gentle smile forms on her lips and I want to kiss them again so I do. Just gently, ever so lightly. "Will it always be like this, if we keep seeing each other?" she asks.

"Always," I tell her sadly. "There will always be someone who thinks they have the right to know our business. It's horrible and it's wrong but that's the truth. You should make me leave right now and never come back."

"I don't think I can do that," she whispers and my heart begins to thump a little harder. "Will the press always follow me?"

"Always," I say gently, resuming rubbing on her neck. "And I will always do everything I can to make sure that's all they do, that you're safe and comfortable even though they watch you."

"Okay," she whispers. "Am I worth them following you, watching you and shouting questions at you?" she asks.

"Definitely," I say without reserve. "I've never thought anyone was. It's why I stopped dating, why I stopped looking for someone. But you are. You are so worth all that. I wish I could say it'll stop but I don't want to lie to you and have you resent me later on when they don't stop. They will always watch you, us. They will always want pictures, no matter what we're doing. They will always print lies and they will always assume things if they can't find the truth.

"I want to tell you that I'll sell my businesses and we'll run away and hide somewhere where nobody cares who I am, but I can't say that because I can't do that. I'm a businessman, Isabella. And like it or not I'm a high profile one from a wealthy family with a lot of enemies both in the press and within the industry. I mine steel. I turn that steel into products and sell it all over the world. Sometimes I sell it to people who do terrible things with it and sometimes they work miracles with it, either way I'm going to be watched and the press are going to comment. I'm good at it but enjoying what I do comes at a price and if you're with me you'll have to pay part of that price with me."

"Okay," she whispers simply. "I can't say that doesn't piss me off because it does, but thank you for not bullshitting me," she giggled adorably.

"I promised I wouldn't lie to you and I won't," I tell her again. "So are we going to be together then?" I ask hopefully and probably too early and at exactly the wrong point in time.

"Yeah," she sighs. "I think we're going to be together now. I mean, you kissed me. We kind of have to now."

"I guess so," I say a little sarcastically. "I mean, kissing is pretty important."

"And the press all say we're madly in love, and moving in together, and my virtue has already been called in to question," she whispered, the laughter bubbling just below the surface as she spoke.

"Exactly. And what sort of man would I be if I cast you aside now that your reputation has already been tarnished in the eyes of the countries press? I'd be labelled a cad and a scoundrel," I chuckled lowly.

"Aside from them already saying you're a, what was it today, oh yes a manipulative single minded control freak who is determined to possess me at any cost. Being called a cad and a scoundrel would ruin you."

"Aside from that," I agreed as good naturedly as I could. Internally I was seething that she had to read that shit about me, let alone what they wrote about her. "The picture was another good one though."

"_Another_ good one?" she whispered as she moved a little closer and settled her cheek against my chest.

I shifted us just a little, until my butt was up against her kitchen counter, and then I wrapped my arms around her until we were touching from knee to chest. I lightly kissed the top of her head and held her.

I knew what adrenalin could do to a person. I knew that while it's pumping through your system you felt ten feet tall and bullet proof but as it wore off you felt exhausted and deflated. She was starting to wane.

"I kept the first picture at first because it was the only picture of me taken in a very long time where I look happy. But I cut today's out to keep because of how beautiful you looked."

"That's sweet," she mumbled before burrowing in to me a little more.

"What happened here tonight?" I asked her carefully, because I knew she'd soon crash and we needed to talk about it.

"I thought the knock at the door was you. I thought the traffic had cleared and you were early. It wasn't. It was Tanya."

"I don't understand how that's possible but I will find out."

"Doesn't matter," she says softly. "It happened and the whys of it don't matter now."

"Did she do that to your lip?" I ask.

"Yeah, she slapped me," she said sadly. "I didn't see it coming but I dodged the next one easy enough after that," she chuckled.

"She tried to hit you twice?" I asked, shocked and appalled that the girl I once knew was capable of such a horrible act.

"She tried, she didn't succeed," she mumbled, really fading fast now. "She pushed her way in here, yelling and screaming about me stealing you off her or some shit," she mumbled. "I pushed her back, she thumped me, I thumped her back. She kept screaming all sorts of shit but I can't remember it all now, and then she shoved me and I lost it. I think I might have really hurt her," she whispered, sounding sorry for causing someone harm.

That astounded me. Tanya pushes her to get inside her home, Isabella hits back and she's sorry for possibly hurting her?

I kissed the top of her head and held her a little more firmly. "There's blood on the carpet outside and in the lift too. Hopefully you did enough damage that she needs medical assistance. You can prove the assault if she needs help," I say softly.

"And then that ends up in the paper too, no thanks," she murmurs.

I ignore that, she was probably in shock and exhausted so I knew she might change her mind later on. "You pack quite a punch in that little body by the sound of it," I chuckled.

"Dad sent me to self defence classes after Jake."

"Smart man."

"Ex cop," she tells me.

"Great," I sigh, knowing full well that my involvement with her had caused enough trouble for any man to hate me without ever having met me. But an ex cop? Whose daughter got assaulted because of me? That wasn't going to be a very affable first introduction. "What do you want to do now then?" I ask. "Tell me what you need and I'll make it happen."

"I don't know where to go or what to do," she admits.

"Okay. Whatever you want to do I'll help. Wherever you want to go I'll take you," I say gently, dying to ask her to come home with me so I could take care of her but knowing not to. She was a grown woman and it was obvious she could take care of herself so she didn't need me making choices for her.

I felt her shrug.

I assessed the situation as best I could. She needed food, drink and a safe, soft bed to sleep in away from the press who would just love to get a picture of her with a cut lip, especially since they'd seen me come up here earlier. There'd be no chance to plead innocent because they'd print that I'd hit her no matter what I did.

"I can take you to Jasper's," I offer.

"It's Wednesday," she whispered.

"And that means what?" I chuckle.

"He stays at Alice' house on Wednesday nights because her parents come over for dinner and it gets too late to drive back, only to drive right by for work in the morning. He won't be there."

I didn't need to ask why she didn't want to be at Jasper's alone.

"Can I take you to Alice' then?" I ask instead.

"And listen to them humping all night? No thanks. Been there, done that, got the earplugs and eye bleach to prove it," she giggled against my chest.

"A hotel?" I offer as a last resort.

"On my own? If Tanya can get at me here she can find me at a hotel. No thanks. I'll just stay here."

I rein in my sigh and man up. "Come home with me?" I ask carefully. "Just for tonight if you want, I mean, you don't have to move in or anything," I stammer. "My housekeeper always cooks too much so there'll be food in the fridge. And I've got a heap of spare rooms that you're welcome to take your pick from. And you can have a shower, I mean, obviously other places have hot water too, but, I mean..." I trail off when she starts laughing.

She reaches a hand up and puts her hand over my mouth cheekily. "Stop," she giggles. "You don't have to sell it to me. It's sweet of you to offer. I accept, and not because you have hot water."

"Seth lives there but he won't bother you," I tell her hurriedly.

"I didn't know that," she says, back to whispering again.

"The press can't even get close enough to take pictures of you there. Do you have a class tomorrow?" I ask, ready to further 'sell' the idea of her staying with me by telling her that Seth will be on hand to take her to school in the morning, but she's shaking her head.

"No classes, but I had planned to go to Jasper's, I do the books there still."

"You're so clever," I tell her idly and kiss the top of her head again. "Seth can take you there in the morning then. He'll have Jared and Tyler familiar with Tanya and what she looks like by morning so you won't have to worry about her getting anywhere near you again."

"You'll go in to work in the morning?" she asks.

"I will," I tell her. I need her to know that the press, and Tanya but to a lesser degree, wouldn't drive me away from what made me happy. That was Isabella herself and my work. "Why don't you go and pack some things to bring and I'll call Seth and tell him we need collecting?"

"Alright," she said through a yawn. "And thank you," she whispers as she squeezes my arm.

I kiss her hair and tell her she's welcome and then she disentangles herself from me and goes down the hall towards her bedroom.

I lock the front door, sliding both bolts across, and then I go out onto her balcony and light a cigarette. I take just a moment to gather myself, and to tamp down my anger, and then I dial Seth.

"I need collecting," I tell him when he answers. "Isabella is coming home with me. Call my father and see if he can come and treat her at the house. If he's busy ask his service to have him call me as soon as is practical."

"On it, boss. I'll let Mrs D know you're bringing a guest, she'll get everything sorted there," he says, referring to my housekeeper. "At some point you and I need to talk. It can wait, nothings riding on it happening tonight, but come tomorrow morning we need to talk."

"Done," I tell him. "I'll get her settled and once she'd asleep we'll talk. How soon can you collect us?"

"Fifteen. Get her to change her clothes, something smart casual will do. Do your best covering up her lip and when I come for you I want her between us as we walk to the car."

"Done. See you then, we'll meet you in the foyer."

I ended the call and lit another cigarette.

I still had so many questions and I hoped that the reason Seth needed to speak with me meant he had those answers.

I had questions for Isabella yet too, but those could wait.

I was taking her home with me. Isabella Swan was going to stay the night in my home.

All I could hope was that she liked it, liked me, and that she'd let me take care of her.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading. **

**Please review.**


	8. Chapter 8

**BPOV**

I threw some clean underwear and some clothes suitable for the office into my backpack and then collected what I'd need from my bathroom. On top of all that went my wallet, keys and the chargers for my phones.

I took a minute, just one minute, to sit on the edge of my bed and get my head around the fact that I was going to Edward's home. With him. To sleep there. With him in the house.

I looked around my bedroom and said a silent goodbye to it. I'd meant what I said to him earlier. I hated the apartment now. It wasn't a haven, my sanctuary anymore. I didn't want to be there and I didn't want to remember what had happened there.

I felt railroaded and a little pissed off that my anger had been so thoroughly rerouted with a few whispered words and his lips. Oh, his lips.

I pressed my fingers to my own lips and relived that kiss in my head.

I'd been so angry, so wound up I'd been able to hear my own heartbeat in my ears as I'd ranted and raved at him. And I'd meant every word I'd yelled. Every single one. But he'd borne it all.

In fact he didn't react at all except to apologise and to keep trying to make sure that I was alright.

And I was alright. Dad had sent me for self defence lessons and I'd found that even as clumsy as I could be I was pretty good at it.

But then he'd kissed me.

And the whispering between us had happened again and my anger just melted away.

I knew there were still a lot of questions to be asked and answered. I knew I hadn't known him long – hell it had only been a few days – but there was a pull towards him that I felt deeply.

He'd promised to keep me safe and he'd really tried. Hadn't really worked as it turned out, but my anger about that wasn't aimed at him, or even Seth really. I was just angry that Tanya had somehow gotten into my building. I wanted to know how.

For now I was going with Edward. He hadn't insisted. He'd given me the choice of where I wanted to go, he'd listened to my reasoning and he'd offered me the safety of his home for the night. I wanted that, I needed it if I was going to sleep and most of all I wasn't ready to be away from him again.

With a firm nod of my head I deemed I was ready.

I zipped up the bag and took it out into the living room. Edward wasn't there and for a split second I panicked that he'd left without me.

I turned in a tight circle looking around and spotted him out on my balcony, cigarette in one hand, the other gripping his scalp. He looked stressed and worried.

I tapped on the glass door before joining him out there and had to grin when he tried to hide the fact that he was smoking.

"Don't bother hiding it," I laughed as I reached for the still lit stick in his hand. I drew on it deeply, enjoying the calming effect it gave me when I gave in and allowed myself to have one. "You aren't getting this back," I chuckled.

"Fair enough," he chuckled too, though his brow was now creased as he watched me suck on his cigarette. "I've never seen you smoke," he said matter of factly.

"I've never seen you do it either, but I knew you did," I tell him truthfully.

"How?"

"You smelled of it at the fun fair, and of peppermint which is always a dead giveaway," I laughed.

"I've never smelled it on you."

"I haven't had one for ages," I tell him truthfully. "I used to smoke a lot," I shrug.

"Me too but now it's supposed to be only just the one after dinner," he says, sounding a little sad.

"I miss that one too," I smile wistfully at the memory of standing on the balcony in the quiet of the night taking in the last of the sweet nicotine. "How long until Seth comes for us?" I ask as I stub it out on the railing.

"A few minutes. He'll call me when he arrives. He wants you to try and cover the cut on your lip but I don't see how you can," he tells me as he reaches for my chin, holding it gently while he looks at the cut there. "You could put makeup or lipstick over it but I don't know if that's a good idea, might hinder it healing later on."

"I'll keep my head down," I say simply.

"I wish you didn't have to," he said, his thumb stroking my lip softly.

"I know," I tell him honestly. I knew he hated that I'd been hurt. I could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes.

"Seth needs you to change your clothes," he says softly. I wanted to be offended but I could see Seth's point so I simply nod. "He wants you to walk between us, when we go outside and to the car."

"Okay," I tell him, still mesmerised by his eyes and the stroking of his thumb.

"Are your knuckles busted?" he asks in that low, gentle voice.

"I don't think so," I whisper, "They hurt a bit," I admit.

"I'll hold your other hand when we go outside."

"Okay."

"I like holding your hand."

"I like it too," I say, feeling myself moving in towards him though I didn't remember thinking on why until I'd pressed myself against his chest.

"I want to kiss you," he whispers so lowly I have to strain to hear him properly.

"Why do we whisper?" I ask stupidly.

"Because it's intimate," he says right away. "Let me kiss you," he says, rather than asks and I find myself nodding.

**EPOV**

I'm more careful with her cut lip this time. The furiousness of our first kiss has given way to a gentler, tenderer kiss this time. She's up against my chest and I can feel the heat of her there.

I slide the hand I'd used to cup her chin and examine her lip around until I'm cupping the back of her neck, tilting her lips up to mine a little.

She tastes of my cigarette and she's warm and soft and utterly divine.

I'm about to be bold and slip my tongue into her mouth when my phone begins to ring.

I pull away slowly, so I don't startle her, and whisper that it's Seth, that I'm sorry for needing to stop before answering the call.

"I'm downstairs, boss," Seth tells me.

"We're coming right down," I tell him and watch as Isabella goes back inside to change her clothing and retrieve her bag.

"Stanley's staying on," he tells me. "With Bella out of the apartment it'll be like open season," he tells me and I have to agree.

"If you trust him he stays," I agree verbally.

"I do and he will," is his answer. "I'll be at the door."

Isabella meets me at her front door and I take her backpack, taking note of the roll of her eyes as I do. I wait for her to lock up before we get into the lift.

I squeeze her hand lightly as we exit and as we approach where Seth is waiting she squeezes mine back before letting me go and striding right to Seth.

"I'm so sorry," she tells him earnestly. "I'm sorry I lost my temper with you and I'm sorry I told you to leave. That was unfair of me."

"Please don't let it worry you, Bella," he says with a grin, using the name she'd shouted at him to use earlier. "I've been thrown out of a lot of places," he chuckles. "It never does me any harm to be put back in my place. Now, are we ready?"

"Ready," she says with a firm nod of her head. She comes right back to my side and slips her hand into mine.

I give it a gentle squeeze and we're off, running the gauntlet of the press once again.

I want to shout that there's no story here but it'd be a lie. There were several big stories there right at that moment. Tanya Denali Stoker assaulted my girlfriend. My girlfriend!

I can't help but grin when one reporter asks if Isabella's going to my house with her backpack. I'm pretty sure I've given the game away but there were just as many reporters waiting at my house and it wouldn't take long for them to work out that she wasn't coming out of my residence again tonight.

As expected my grin doesn't go unnoticed and once one has jumped on it, like lemmings, they all do.

Isabella squeezes my hand a little and I squeezed back as we cross the road and head for the car.

And then one of the reporters is running, following us to the car which they've not done before. And then we're running too. Seth has the backdoor open and Isabella is bundled inside safely, leaving me at their mercy for a few seconds while she scoots across.

The flashes from the cameras are blinding, their questions shouted as I duck my head and join Isabella in the safety of the backseat.

"Seatbelts on," Seth shouts from the driver's seat and I only have seconds to do it up before he's pulling away from the curb, leaving the journalists behind in our wake. "Fucking parasites," he hisses under his breath and I can't help but agree.

"Are you alright?" I ask Isabella.

"I'm fine," she replies with a little grin of her own.

"That's a lovely smile," I say softly, my thumb once again tracing the cut on her lip.

"Yours must have been spectacular," she laughs. "Wish I'd have seen it."

"You probably will," I sigh, "in tomorrow's paper."

"Good," she says firmly and I can't help but smile back at her for her bravery and defiance. "I'll cut that one out and keep it too."

"You kept the others too?" I ask, incredulous. I'd assumed she'd hated the pictures that had been printed. She'd said she thought it sweet that I'd kept them, but hadn't commented about her keeping them too.

"I haven't snipped them out and put them in my desk drawer," she giggles, cuffing me on the arm as she does, "but I haven't exactly thrown the newspapers away either."

"I see," I say a little smugly. "We should start a scrapbook," I joke.

She scoffs but doesn't say no.

"I don't even know where you live," she says instead.

"Balmain," I tell her.

"Figures," she scoffs again teasingly. At least I think it's teasingly. I hope it is.

"I think you have the wrong idea about me," I tease back gently. "I'm only pretending to be rich. I do live in Balmain, but not in one of those harbour side mansions I'm afraid."

"Oh that's horrible," she giggles. "I hate it when I attract losers."

Now I know for sure she's teasing. There is a lovely pale rose blush on her cheeks and her eyes are sparkling with devilment. "Oh it really is horrible," I laugh. "It's a tiny crumbling, falling down terrace house with a Hells Angels clubhouse on one side and a halfway house for crack whores on the other. Awful neighbourhood. Murders every other night. Sirens all day."

"But crack on hand," she giggles. She's really laughing now and I find myself edging towards her, wanting to soak her in. "I suppose Seth lives in the outhouse?" she snorts, making Seth chuckle in the front too.

"Not the outhouse," he butts in before I can, "I live in the crack house with the whores. They keep me warm," he chuckles.

"We do have indoor plumbing," I tease with a wag of my finger. "I did tell you I had hot running water remember?"

"Okay," she giggles. "So you've got indoor plumbing, but the rest is a dump, right?"

"A total dump," I agree. "You're going to hate it."

"I bet," she snorts daintily.

**BPOV**

I knew he was full of shit but it was fun to be laughing with him, and Seth too, instead of whispering about serious things for a change. Actually it was just nice to laugh full stop.

The last few days had been so serious, so full of worry and anger that it felt good to laugh and joke now, even though I knew he was full of shit.

He was loaded and everyone knew it. His house was going to be exactly what he said it wasn't. A mansion with harbour views.

That was proven a few minutes later when Seth reminded us to keep our chins up and our mouths shut as we went through the gates. The journalists would hardly be able to see us through the dark tint on the windows of the car, but even so I could see the logic in being better safe than sorry in the papers tomorrow morning.

I knew which house was Edward's without being told because his was the only one with a contingent of press waiting at the driveway.

I heard him echo Seth's earlier comment about them being parasites but could only mentally agree while I plastered a smile on my face just in case one of the hundred camera flashes managed to get a shot of us through the windows.

Electric gates opened as we approached and I assumed they were remote controlled though I never saw Seth reach for a button. They opened smartly, Seth drove us through them and then I heard them squeak shut behind us, locking the press out and us in.

The house loomed large in front of me as Seth drove up the drive and parked up next to a sports car.

"Your weekender?" I ask Edward with a nod towards the sleek little car.

"Something like that," he chuckled and made to exit the car.

Seth was at my door in seconds and I let him help me with my backpack though it seemed stupid to me. It wasn't like it was heavy.

I followed behind Seth, Edward behind me, and was led around the side of the house.

"Such a dump," I laughed as I got my first look at it.

"I told you," Edward laughed behind me.

"Which side's the crack house?" I asked as we made our way up the half dozen steps to the imposing front doors.

"That side," Seth laughed, pointing behind me to a tall wooden fence, behind which was another equally impressive residence.

"I guess crack whores do alright in Balmain," I whistled going inside as Seth held the door for me. "Jesus Christ," I whispered to myself as I stood in the foyer and looked upwards.

"Bit of a dump," Edward chuckled as he came to my side.

I guessed I hadn't quite whispered. "Sorry," I mumble, "I've never seen anything like this before."

"It's just a house," he shrugs and takes my backpack from Seth. "Take a look around," he gestures first left then right, "The guest rooms are down there," he motions to his left, my right, "Pick whichever one you'd like."

"Not the very front one," Seth pipes up from somewhere unseen. He's holding an open bottle of water when he comes back to the foyer. "The front can be seen from the road," he finishes.

"Good to know, wouldn't want the Hells Angels seeing me in my pyjamas," I tell him with a nod. There'd been enough heavy for one day so I kept things light.

"When you're ready come upstairs. I'm on the right at the top of the stairs, I'm going to get changed real quick, so take your time," Edward tells me.

Seth had already gone by the time I turned around so I figured I'd do as suggested and pick a room to sleep in. I scooped up my backpack and headed down the hall, back towards the front of the house and the direction of the road.

The first room along was large and bright and a little clinical with its plain white walls, stark chrome finished furniture and fittings and a severe black comforter on the bed. It wasn't for me. It'd be like sleeping in a hotel.

Just as Seth had warned the very front room could be seen easily from the road so that one was out and that left just the one in the middle. Piggy in the middle I thought as I pushed open the double doors.

"Please let it be normal," I mumbled to myself in hope.

My luck didn't hold out. The middle room was just as bland as the other two. Plain white walls, chrome furniture and fittings and a plain black comforter. Oh well I thought as I tipped my backpack out onto the end of the bed.

The hall I'd walked down had been entirely made of glass so I knew there were no other rooms opposite, which meant there had to be ensuite bathrooms for the guest rooms.

The first door I tried inside the room was for a closet, opening the second I hit pay dirt.

Claw footed bath, huge shower stall and gleaming glass and chrome fittings everywhere. The shelf above the bath held a dozen thick, white towels and the toilet paper roll had been folded into a point like at a swanky hotel. There was even a little bar of soap in a wrapper on the side of the basin. It was also spotless. Not a speck of dust anywhere that I could see.

The bedroom might not have been inviting at all but the ensuite bathroom was. Sleek and elegant I could deal with in a bathroom.

I longed to lounge in the tub and let the day's worries melt away in some hot water but I knew Edward was waiting for me. Still, I patted that tub and told it we were going to be firm friends as I went out of the room.

**EPOV**

Nervous was not a strong enough word to describe how I felt having a woman in my house. And not just any woman, Isabella Swan, the most beautiful, beguiling woman I'd ever met. And she was just downstairs choosing a room for herself.

I knew without being told that she'd hate those guest rooms. They were boring and plain and nothing at all like her apartment had been. Her personal space was cosy but bright with colours on the walls. She had photographs instead of landscapes in frames and where I had chrome furniture and straight backed chairs in black leather she had plush sofas and armchairs that made you want to sink into them and read a good book.

I wanted to show her around. I wanted to be with her, to gauge her reactions as she looked around my personal spaces, but I didn't think she was going to like it all that much and I'd feel like a gloating asshole showing her around the house like an estate agent, pointing out its features to her.

So I left her to explore the ground floor on her own and went upstairs to change my clothes and check my messages.

I eyed the jeans and t-shirts Rose had given me for the fun fair but decided against them. They weren't me. I was never comfortable in them and I wanted to be comfortable while Isabella was in my home. I'd once asked her to give me a chance to show her the real me and now was the best chance I'd been presented with to date.

I tore off my workday suit and tie and traded them for a plain pair of slacks and a cream button down. It was as casual as I ever got.

Next I went into my bathroom to remove my contacts. My eyes were red and stinging by the time I got them out so I put in a couple of liquid tear drops and slid on my glasses.

I went back out of my bedroom to the home office next door and switched on my answering machine. There were several work messages and one from Rose reminding me about Friday night dinner with the family. Again.

There was a reminder from Kate that I was due on a conference call at eight with my Western Australian smelter manager and the sales rep from a steel company in Asia that I was currently in talks with to supply stainless steel for medical instruments.

I checked my watch and saw that it had just gone seven so I at least had an hour to enjoy Isabella's company before I had to do a little work.

As soon as I'd sat down behind my desk my personal phone rang, it was my mother.

"What's happened?" she screeched as soon as I answered. "Your father said you needed a consult!"

"Calm down, mom," I said evenly. "I'm fine, it's not for me."

"Then who? Seth? One of the other boys? Oh tell me Mrs Davis is alright?" she begged, in full-on panic mode now.

"It's for Isabella," I tell her gently, knowing the relief that it wasn't one of the others would quickly be replaced by her panic that it was her friend.

"What happened?" she asked again. "Where is she?"

"She's with me, here at the house. She was assaulted but she's okay," I tell her.

"Call an ambulance! I'll call the police while you do that! They'll have to move the press along now. Bastards," she hissed, protective as ever and just as pissed off at the press as I was.

"Mom it wasn't the press. Look, I just need to speak to dad if he's there?"

"He's just gone in to surgery, he told me to call you, said you needed the consult. What happened, Edward?" she asked again.

"Tanya got into Isabella's building and they got into a fight," I sigh.

"Oh my god," she moaned and I could imagine her with her hand to her mouth in shock right now.

"She's alright, mom. A cut to her lip and she says her knuckles hurt a bit but I'm pretty sure they aren't broken. I just wanted to touch base with dad, that's all."

The line is silent for far too long.

"Mom? Are you still there?" I ask.

"Yes," she sighs, "I'm here. I want to come over, to help her and you, but the press..." she trails off sadly, knowing full well that if the Cullen contingent arrived en masse that would become the story the next day.

"Yeah," I sigh, "I understand, but I think she really is alright, I just wanted to check. But thank you for offering. I'll tell her you did. But can you just have dad call me when he's done in theatre? I'll be up."

"I bet you will," she giggles.

"Mom!" I hiss.

"Sorry. Sorry," she giggles again but I know she's not sorry at all. "I'm so happy for you baby boy, that's all. She's so lovely and you'll have such pretty..."

"Don't say it, mom," I warn before she can tack 'babies' onto the end of her statement.

"Oh okay, I won't say it then," she says and I can hear the smile in her voice. "I'll have your father call you. And I want to see you tomorrow. Make time," she demands.

I know better than to argue and just say 'yes mom' like a good boy. She'd barge into my office anyway, no matter if I made time for her or not.

We end the call with good wishes on both sides and I turn my attention back to the paperwork on my desk while I wait for Isabella.

That's where I was when she came to find me. Head down over the Asian proposal, a red pen between my teeth and a dozen reports on their financial situation open and strewn about my desk.

"If you need to work I can leave you alone," she said as she came in.

"No, no," I stammered, eager to spend the time with her. "This can all wait. Come on in," I told her as I closed all the reports and shoved them aside.

"This place is pretty impressive," she said as she made her way to the windows at the back of the room. "Not quite the crumbling mess you described," she chuckled.

"You haven't seen the bottom floor yet," I laughed. "Seth lives down there, and sometimes Jared or one of the other boys stays there too if it gets late, and it's a bit of a tip."

"I can imagine what you consider a tip. Let me guess, they leave towels on the floor and dishes in the sink?"

"Something like that," I had to agree.

"You have a housekeeper, right?" she asked.

"Mrs Davis, yes. She's in during the daytime."

"And she does everything for you?" she asked.

There was no point lying, so I didn't. "Almost everything, yes. I'm not here a lot. I'm gone by six in the morning and I'm rarely home before seven at night. That doesn't leave a lot of time for domestic chores."

"How could you be coming to my place for dinner at six if you don't finish work until seven?" she asked as she came away from the windows and joined me at my desk.

"I'm the boss, I leave when I want," I tell her.

"But you just said you don't leave until seven normally," she says, one eyebrow arched.

"I did, didn't I?" I chuckled. "There were a few raised eyebrows as I was leaving this evening."

"I bet," she said softly. "I don't want you to have to take time away from your work for me."

I sit back in my chair and run a hand through my hair. "I don't think you'll be surprised by this, but, these past few days have been the best days I can remember in a very long time. I don't like the media scrutiny, but having something – or someone – to think about other than work has been rather exciting for me."

"Are you bored?" she asks matter of factly and I take a second to think about the question.

"Yes," I admit.

"Lonely?" she asks.

"Yes."

"Are you sleeping with Tanya?"

"God no!" I all but shout. "No. Jeez, no. Is that what she told you?" I see her nod and I blow out a steadying breath over my lip before sitting forwards and staring her in the eye. "I swear to you that I am not sleeping with Tanya, or anybody else, no matter who says that I am."

"But you do know her, right?" she asks and I nod that I do. "Then I don't understand why she said that you were sleeping with her," she says, eyes boring into mine.

"It's complicated," I begin but I know immediately that I've said the wrong thing.

"I think I can follow," she all but hisses and I concede.

"Of course you can," I tell her honestly. "In simple terms Tanya's father Eleazar Denali and my father were at medical school together. Us kids grew up together. Me, Rosie, Tanya and her little sister Irina. Our two families spent summer holidays together and the four of us kids all went to the same schools.

"Tanya's mother died when she was only twelve and my mother sort of took the two girls under her wing I suppose," I tell her sadly. "So we saw a lot of the girls after that. They were always at our house after school and when Eleazar needed to be at the hospital during the night. It was like having two more sisters. At least I thought of them both as sisters," I say on a sigh.

"But Tanya didn't see you like a brother," she sighs too.

"No, she didn't. But I didn't know that until years later. I promise you that. I need to go back a bit first," I tell her. "There was a running joke between the two families that when we finished university Tanya and I would get married and have Cullen-Denali babies together, forever joining the two families. We all used to joke that Eleazar and Carmen, that's his late wife, really screwed up having two girls because if they'd had a boy Rosie could've married him, an even pair. It was just funny, something we all laughed over. But it _was_ just a joke. Something we all teased each other about over dinners and bbq's at the beach. But I never dated Tanya. I've never slept with her, hell I've never even kissed her."

"Then why did she break into my building, try and slap me around all the while screaming that she wasn't going to let me steal you off her?" she asks, and it's a good question.

"Because," I sigh, "the joke was never a joke to Tanya. I swear I didn't know that she'd taken it seriously. We were just kids, maybe fourteen or fifteen when it first started. It was just a joke. But as we got older she really did start to believe that we would do all those things together. I made the mistake of taking her as my date to one of the hospital benefits when we were still in university and she took that to mean that I was ready to put the plan into action.

"I told her we'd all been joking. Nicely of course. I told her I didn't think of her that way, that I didn't love her and I certainly didn't want to marry her. I told her that I saw her as a sister and that because we were both unattached at the time going to the benefit together was just for convenience. She took it badly. She was convinced that because our families had mentioned it so often, and for so many years, that I was just waiting to finish graduate school and then we'd be together. She'd been treading water waiting for me.

"I never, ever gave her that impression and right up until she confronted me, during dinner at that benefit I might add, I had no idea she'd thought everyone was serious."

"And all this, the press, the pictures, the smack in the mouth, it's all because this fantasy about the two of you is in her head? She believes you and she will marry and have babies together because of a family joke told while you were kids?" she asks.

"I think so, yes," I tell her. "I haven't talked to her in person for years. After that one time, at that benefit dinner, I only ever saw her at big family gatherings. And then I steered clear of her if I could, without seeming rude of course. She stopped going to the benefits and when I went off to post graduate school she dropped out altogether. I always wondered if she only actually went to university because I went, but I've never had the chance to ask her."

"Where is she now, do you know?"

"I don't, no. Seth's been looking for her since Monday evening but he's had no luck as yet."

"He's talked to her father, her sister?"

"Yes. She's nowhere to be found."

"She doesn't want to be found," she mumbled and I had to agree. "Why would she pay someone to write a story about you with another woman? I mean, she wants you for herself, wouldn't getting proof of you with someone else make it worse for her?"

"I agree, to you and me that's exactly how it seems. But Tanya isn't stable. She hasn't been for a long time. I didn't realise just how unstable she was until a few days ago."

"Has she ever tried anything like this before?" she asked astutely and all at once I loved and hated that she was so smart.

"Yes," I say quietly. "Not exactly like this, but close. Four years ago I was out with a woman. She was a sales rep and it wasn't a date. She was representing a company who wanted me to fund a piece of their operation. That bit doesn't matter," I say with a wave of my hand. "The day before the dinner the woman had done an interview for a magazine that was focussing on the local mining market. The story mentioned me and that she was working with me to set up the deal. The deal was a good one and I did buy in. She was flying back to the parent company with the signed contract the next day so she took me out to dinner to hand them over, a sort of a thank you I guess," I shrug.

"Let me guess," Isabella sighs, "the day after your dinner the pictures appeared in the paper?"

"Yes, they did," I tell her. "Only they were grainy and Seth thought they'd been taken on a mobile phone camera rather than by a professional photographer or a journalist. The story was rudimentary too. Just some guff about the deal, very little about me personally, or even about the actual dinner."

"It didn't work," she mumbles and I have to ask what she means. "Well, Tanya's tried to flush you out using the press before and it didn't work. Crude pictures, vague story that's more business than personal. She's upped her game."

"Keep going," I urge her, just like I did with Emmett to get him to expand on his ideas.

"This time its proper photographers, credentialed jounatlists and the stories are appearing in major papers. The story is almost all personal this time, not business because it didn't work last time the story centred on business."

"But to what end?" I ask.

"To flush you out," she shrugs. "Am I right in guessing you won't see her?"

"No, I won't."

"And you won't accept her calls? Emails? Faxes? Carrier pigeons?" she giggles at her own joke and I find it adorable.

"Her calls are blocked, my secretary vets my emails and faxes and I don't think anyone uses carrier pigeons these days, but one of those wouldn't get through the office doors if she did find one," I laugh in response.

"So if she creates a big enough stir, gets a whole lot of bullshit printed, and let's face it you're big news and any story about you is going to sell well, then she has a chance of you meeting with her. She's in hiding now but she must know you're looking for her. She'll stick her head above the bunker only once she's satisfied she'll be able to speak to you personally. Once she's paid enough journalists to take enough pictures and you're sufficiently pissed off. But she'll only come out for you. Not Seth, not one of the others looking for her, you.

"After that it's probably one of two scenarios. Either she figures it would only take one face to face meeting and she can lay out her case, you'll fall at her feet and the family plan's back on, or she wants to discredit you publicly so you'll see her. If she's photographed with you, even once, she can come out in the press herself and say she's the discarded lover that you've treated abominably."

"Christ," I mutter.

"It's just a theory," she shrugs.

"A better one than we've been able to come up with," I tell her proudly. "If it's scenario one she's got no hope and if it's two..." I trail off, unsure how I'd handle scenario two.

"If its two you let Emmett and Seth handle it professionally," she tells me firmly. "If she's doing this for her own gain, for her five minutes of fame at your expense, then you need to meet with her father and tell him what she's doing and why. You tell him he reels her in or the full weight of the Cullen Enterprises Public Relations team will spell out in newstype what she's about."

**BPOV**

I sat back, pleased that he seemed lost for words.

I finally had some answers. I didn't like a lot of them, but at least I now had some idea of why I'd been dragged into this mess.

And as I sat there and looked at him I came to realise that Tanya Denali Stoker might have done me an enormous favour. I'd never have had a chance to get to know the real Edward Cullen without her paying that original journalist to take pictures of us.

Edward sat back in his chair and raked his hand through his hair again. He did that when he was stressed and I was sorry that he was, he didn't deserve any of this either.

The longer I looked at him the more questions popped into my head.

"Why are you wearing glasses?" I asked without thinking.

I'm about to apologise for the stupid question when he begins to grin. "So I can see," he chuckles, the worry lines on his brow gone now.

"Do you not see well without them then? It's just I haven't seen you wearing them since I met you."

"I have contacts but I hate them. They dry out my eyes so as soon as I get home at night I take them out," he shrugs.

"If you hate them why do you use them?"

"Vanity," he grimaces.

The answer doesn't sit right with me. He doesn't seem vain. Not to me. And then I get it.

"Yours or Emmett's?" I ask.

"Mine or Emmett's what?" he asks back.

"Your vanity or Emmett's?" I ask seriously.

"Emmett's," he sighs a little sadly.

"And the jeans and trainers?"

"Emmett's, but a little bit of Rosalie too."

"Are you comfortable being who everyone wants you to be?" I ask.

"No," his answer is instant and emphatic.

"The suit, the crisp white shirt and tie and the leather shoes, that's you when you're comfortable?" I ask.

"Yeah," he sighs like being comfortable is a fault not a right.

"And at home? Here? Which version is the real you here?" I ask.

"This," he says softly, motioning to himself. "This is the real me. I went to private schools where it was compulsory to wear slacks and a tie, blazers in winter too. They were all very strict and I never deviated from the rules. I found I liked it, actually. It became normal for me; especially once I started the business, because I rarely did anything but work so I always wore work clothes. The habit stuck," he grimaces.

We were really getting somewhere, on a bit of a roll, and I wanted the answers to my questions while I had the chance. I never knew when the next distraction would arrive.

"I saw you at the fun fair, when you were waiting to get up on the stage. You were nervous, you looked scared. Why?" I asked brutally.

"Because it was all fake," he hisses unexpectedly.

Rather than being shocked at that I was rather pleased with his answer. He at least knew what the real version of himself was even if nobody else did.

"What you said on stage was that fake too? A line fed to you by Emmett to help with your image? Were the promises you made to those people fake?" I ask.

"All true, I swear," he says earnestly and I believed him. "What you heard was real. I do want that smelter and the workshops to succeed and I'll do everything I promised to do to make that happen up there. But what you saw of me was fake, the me that you saw was the me that Emmett thinks the Equity Steel people needed to see."

"You stuttered," I said matter of factly.

"I do that when I'm uncomfortable," he admits. "Childhood thing."

"You don't stammer with me."

"You don't make me uncomfortable," he grins cockily.

"Good to know," I grin back. "Can I ask you something else about the fair?"

"Sure."

"At the shooting gallery, was that the real you?"

"God I hope not," he sighs, running his hand through his hair again. "I was out of my depth there. I'm not good in crowds and I was playing a part. Trying to look like I fit in, like I was normal. When you laughed at me..." he trailed off.

"When I laughed at you, you got self conscious," I finish for him and he nods at my assessment. "You don't like to lose and those kids were better at it than you."

"I'm so sorry I spoke to you the way I did. I want to say I'm not a control freak but I am. A little bit," he grins. "At work I need to be."

"And at home?" I ask.

"Until today there was no demarcation line between work and home."

"You work here a lot too?"

"Until tonight, yes," he grins.

"When I came in you were working," I counter.

"And in forty-two minutes I have a conference call to sit in on but until then I'm officially off the clock," he says looking down at his watch. "Shall we find something to eat?" he asks, changing the subject from heavy to light quite craftily.

"I was going to cook for you," I tell him sadly.

I watch him get up from his desk and slip his phone into his pocket before he comes around to where I'm sitting. He reaches down, holding his hand out for me and I don't hesitate to put mine into his. "Let me take care of you tonight. You can cook for me another time, alright?" he asks.

"Fine," I mumble as I get to my feet.

He chuckles lowly and deeply, making my heart skip and my skin tingle where our hands are joined. "I can cook you know," he grins as we make our way downstairs.

**EPOV**

I couldn't cook and I wanted to take back what I'd said immediately, but it was out there and I knew she'd heard me because she'd mumbled something about me being able to do _everything_ under her breath.

I should've said I could microwave someone else's cooking competently. Or that I could stick a premade tray of well, anything, into the oven successfully. I could pour boiling water into a cup of noodles, I could make a decent cup of coffee and I could effectively make toast too.

I should've told her the truth but I didn't because I wanted her to like me. I wanted her to think I was a good guy and if I was honest with myself I wanted her to think I was brilliant, at everything. I wasn't and I knew it. I didn't want her to know it.

Luckily Seth was in the kitchen when we got there and he _did_ know how to cook. He knew how to do it but he never did.

I had no idea what it was he was making but it smelled good and he looked like he knew what he was doing so I happily did as he advised and sat on one of the high stools that butted up to the kitchen counter.

I mouthed thank you to him when I thought I could do it without Isabella seeing and he gave me a nod in reply.

The conversation while he put together the meal centred on Tanya and Isabella's theories about her. Seth was impressed and I knew it because he smiled at her a lot. Seth wasn't a smiler. Seth also wasn't a talker but there he was, chatting away with Isabella as if they'd known each other for a lifetime.

He announced the meal was ready and asked us to go into the dining room.

I knew he was trying to impress her then because we never ate in the dining room. We usually just sat at the counter and when that was even too much bother we stood in the kitchen and wolfed down whatever Mrs Davis had left for us.

He'd set the table which made me balk. There was music playing overhead and the lights had been dimmed. When he came back from the kitchen with a bottle of red I nearly choked on my first forkful of pasta.

Over the meal we three talked about how long Seth had worked for me and about what a horrible boss I was. We laughed about his addiction to celebrity gossip magazines and ribbed each other about our shared loved of all things sweet.

Seth asked questions of her that I knew for a fact he already knew the answers to and I figured it was all for my benefit. He couldn't, in good conscience anyway, divulge to me what he'd found out about her when he'd checked her out so this was his way of giving that information to me without breeching her privacy.

Isabella asked questions about my business and about how I was going to attempt to turn Equity around. I asked questions about how she'd come to be a party planner. Seth asked about her family and then we talked for a little while about her father's career as a police officer.

They swapped stories about self defence classes and techniques and at one point Seth even offered to show her his scar collection. I was about to protest when Isabella did it for me, saying she was impressed enough with the description and didn't need to see them.

We learned that Jasper and Alice were to be married soon and that her soon to be sister in law was a force to be reckoned with. We all laughed as she described the bickering that went on in kitchens at functions and how all of it would be forgotten as soon as the function was over and the next needed planning.

When the alarm on my phone went off I cursed it knowing that our jovial meal had to come to an end. I excused myself from the table by announcing I had just five minutes to prepare before my conference call.

"I'll be around half an hour," I tell Isabella sadly.

"That's okay," she tells me. "I've got a date with your tub anyway."

"I see," I grin, "well I hope it is a gentleman and that you enjoy it."

As I leave the room and head for the stairs I hear Seth insisting she go off and enjoy her bath while he cleared the table.

He was a rat!

Seth never cooked. Seth never set the table and Seth never, ever cleaned. Ever. I hadn't been kidding when I'd told Isabella that his rooms downstairs were a tip. They were. He never made the bed, citing that he was just going to mess it up again anyway. He never put his dishes in the dishwasher saying he'd just rinse them and use them again later. He never picked up towels, or dirty clothing or mugs!

He was trying to impress my girlfriend and I was actually...what was I? I thought to myself as I went into my home office.

I thought I might be jealous. I'd never been jealous of anyone in my entire life. Not friends or family and never, ever about a girl. But there I was feeling monstrously jealous of a man who was essentially both my brother and best friend because he was trying to appear domestic in front of my girlfriend!

It defied logic.

The phone console on my desk ringing took my attention away from Isabella, and Seth the dirty rat, and I was forced to focus on work.

**BPOV**

I filled that tub to the brim with steaming hot water and closed my eyes as I soaked. It was blissful and with my sore knuckles submerged the heat did its thing and soothed them a little.

I soaked for twenty minutes, eager to be out of the tub and ready to rejoin Edward once his call was complete. I towel dried my hair and pulled it back into a ponytail before slipping on my pyjamas. I'd opted for plain grey leggings and a matching oversized t-shirt that had, for some reason, a woolly sheep on the front. It was so old the caption had long since worn off.

With comfy clothes on and a fuzzy head from the steam and hot water I was feeling the effects of the earlier adrenalin rush. My limbs felt heavy and I could've quite happily crawled into the big bed and slept until dawn, but I wanted to spend more time with Edward more than I wanted sleep. So I waited until exactly eight thirty and then I made my way back upstairs to his office.

He was still on his call when I got there. I was going to turn back around and go back to the guest room when he excused himself from the call for a moment.

"I won't be much longer," he told me while he held his hand over the mouthpiece. "My sitting room is just next door," he said, motioning further down the hall. "You're welcome to use it, I'll try and be quick."

"Don't hurry," I told him quietly so as not to be overheard on his call, "Do what you need to do."

I pointed in the direction of the hall to let him know I'd take up his offer to use his sitting room and as I left the office I heard him return to his call.

I'd never known anyone who had a private sitting room before so I'd tried to keep my surprise at his statement off my face. But as I made my way out the door and through the double doors next to the office I let that surprise free.

"Holy shit," I whistled as I got my first look at Edward Cullen's personal space.

The size of the room I was now standing in didn't surprise me. The rest of the house was enormous too. It was how the space was arranged that got to me.

I'd expected to walk through the doors and into a living room even though he'd called it a sitting room, but I hadn't. I'd walked into his bedroom, that just happened to have a sitting room within it.

Its doors were open, another imposing pair with big, brass hardware but I suddenly wasn't all that interested to see what his DVD collection contained.

I moved past the sitting room and went to look out through the floor to ceiling windows at the harbour lights. Two whole walls housed gigantic glass panes, their drapes held back by more big, brass hardware.

The view was spectacular. I could see clear across the harbour to the bridge and beyond that the lights of the actual city. On a clearer night I wagered you could see clear across to Luna Park.

The room itself was as stunning as the view. A huge black lacquered bed dominated the room as it jutted out from the only wall that wasn't taken up with windows. Its cabinets on either side held a pair of chrome footed lamps but other than that the room was bare.

I figured that you didn't need furniture in your bedroom when you had a sitting room inside it. So the lack of a dresser or even a chair or small table wasn't a total surprise.

My curiosity got the better of me then and I wondered where his bathroom and closet were because I couldn't see any other doors other than the ones to the sitting room. A quick walk around the space proved me right. No doors meant no ensuite bathroom and no closet, which didn't make sense. The guest rooms had ensuite bathrooms and definitely had closets, though the one in mine was empty.

Worried that Edward would finish his call and find me snooping I went into the sitting room.

The long black leather sofa sat squarely opposite two bright red armchairs though they didn't look at all inviting. They looked cold and hard and there wasn't a cushion or throw rug in sight.

There were shelves along one wall that held books, DVD's and an impressive music collection but there was nothing else that could be thought of as personal in or on any surface. No pictures. No photographs. No magazines or even the newspaper.

I had candles and knickknacks everywhere but this room was devoid of any adornment at all, personal or otherwise.

I picked up a remote control and pointed it at the TV that was mounted on the wall and had to hope that it was the right one, there were four of them, and I'd chosen at random.

The TV didn't come on when I pressed the power button but music came from somewhere. Whatever it was that was playing was soft and gentle so I decided to give the television and its mindless programming a miss and let the music play out, wherever it was coming from. And I couldn't see where.

I took down several books off the shelf and curled up in the corner of the sofa to wait. I got through the blurb on the back of the first one and two pages into the next when sleep overtook me.

**EPOV**

Fresh from her bath she'd been fresh faced and bright eyed. She'd also looked so adorable in her grey pyjamas with the sheep on the front I wanted to end my call and leap across the desk at her.

What I'd do once I'd gotten to her I tried to put out of my mind, but the compulsion was there.

Instead, and more appropriately, I'd asked her to wait for me in my sitting room while I finished the call. It had gone well and I'd negotiated a good price. The call ended with both sides of the deal happy.

I was tidying up my reports when my father called. I'd explained how Isabella had sustained her injury and he'd advised me to keep an eye on it and ask her frequently if she was in pain. If by tomorrow morning, after a good night's sleep, her knuckles were swollen, red or aching I needed to make sure she saw her doctor.

There was amusement in his voice as we spoke, not unlike the amusement that had been in my mother's voice earlier, but dad was more subtle than mom. He wished me a pleasant evening, reminded me again that I was expected at dinner on Friday and then I'd rung off before he could get too far into his 'be a gentleman' talk.

I checked in with Seth very briefly and he assured me that the property was locked up tight with all the alarms on and active. We arranged that when Isabella was sleeping I'd find him and we'd talk.

I turned off the ringers on my phones, turned off the lights and locked the office door behind me.

I didn't expect to find her curled up and fast asleep, a novel resting on her chest with her thumb marking the page. I also didn't expect her to appear even lovelier than she normally was to me. But she was.

And she was cold. She'd tucked her feet up into the hems of her sleep pants and she was curled into the side of the sofa seeking either comfort or warmth. I knew she'd find neither on that particular sofa. It was built to look fashionable, not be comfortable.

And that posed a dilemma.

If I woke her she'd go to the guest room. If I left her there she'd get a crick in her neck or back.

I solved the problem by racing into my bedroom and retrieving the comforter from my bed as well as four pillows. I slid one of the pillows very carefully under her head and put one more of them on the floor beside her, for later if she woke and needed it. I spread the comforter out over her, tucking it in slightly along the length of her as I went. I put the other two pillows on the other end of the sofa and pulled the comforter to its full length.

I ran back into my room and slid open the concealed door for my bathroom. I scrubbed my teeth, made quick work of my clothing and pulled on some plain black sleep pants and an old t-shirt.

I left my watch, phones and my wallet on the bedside table and took the copies of my emails that Kate made and packed into my briefcase for home with me back to the sitting room.

I was careful not to jostle her as I slid onto the other end of the sofa and even more careful not to wake her as I pulled a share of the covers up for myself.

As soon as I had found a comfortable position she slipped her feet out of the hems of her pants and put them onto my calves, making me shiver at the coldness of them.

I couldn't help but smile as she turned on her side and got more settled in her sleep.

I hadn't meant to sleep. I still had work to do and a talk to be had with Seth, but sleep I did.

A comfortable, unconscious sort of sleep where no sound or movement would wake me fully.

And when I did wake, with the sun streaming in through the high overhead windows, effectively blinding me, I woke with a start because wrapped around me was a warm, soft body with long, dark hair. Most of which was in my mouth.

* * *

**A/N: I should have said that this was finished, all written and ready to go, right from the off. Sorry. I forgot. **

**Thanks for reading.**

**Please review. **


	9. Chapter 9

**BPOV**

I woke up feeling very warm and very penned in. It took me a few seconds to realise that the warmth was coming from Edward and that the reason I felt penned in was because he was behind me, his thigh between mine and his arm was draped across my stomach, holding me tightly.

His breathing was shallow and regular and I thought he might still be asleep. But I knew that there was at least one part of his anatomy that was awake.

During the night I'd swung around and as I cracked one eye open, groaning softly at the piercing sunlight, I could see that I was not on the end of the sofa where I'd begun the night before.

I was also covered in the black comforter from his bed and had half a pillow under my head. He had the other half of both.

"Morning," he mumbled, his voice gravelly behind me.

"Morning," I managed to groan as I tried to stretch and encountered several protesting muscles. "Any chance you know what the time is?"

"No clue," he mumbled before kissing me on the back of my shoulder. "It must be early, very early, or Seth would've come for me already."

"I'm so sorry I crashed on you last night," I whisper.

"I'm not surprised you did. All that adrenalin saps you pretty fast afterwards," he whispers back as his fingers begin stroking my belly over my shirt.

"Did you sleep right through?" I ask, wondering if he'd sat up half the night working.

"I did. I finished up my call and came to find you but you were already out to it. I brought some work with me and laid down, thinking I'd get up again once I'd read through my pages, but I must have zonked."

"Zonked," I giggle as I cover his hand with mine and begin rubbing my thumb across it. "Funny word for such an educated guy."

"Zonked is a perfectly legitimate word to use," he chuckles as he too tries to stretch his limbs out a little. "God this thing is uncomfortable."

"It looks nice but yeah, not great to sleep on," I agree as I sit up, mourning the loss of his body pressed up against mine.

"I'll replace it," he says as he sits up behind me, one thigh on either side of mine. His arms go around my middle, holding me tightly to him again. "Yours looked much more comfy than this one."

"Mine's awesome," I tell him smugly. "Alice and I have sleepovers on it it's so good."

"Do you both wear woolly sheep pyjamas?" he teases as he begins to rub his stubble against the back of my neck.

I try to squirm away, not because I want him to stop because it feels so, so good, but because if he makes me laugh too hard I'd pee myself. "Alice has pink poodles on hers," I inform him, so I can leap away while he's distracted by that mental image. "I'll go downstairs and use the bathroom," I tell him as I slip the borrowed book back onto its shelf.

"Use mine," he says as he scrubs at his face with his palms. "I'll go and put some coffee on and check in with Seth. You go first," he says, waving his hand towards his bedroom.

"Um," I stammer, "I didn't notice a bathroom in there," I say sheepishly.

"Concealed doors," he groans as he gets unsteadily to his feet. "Come on, I'll show you."

I'm grateful he's gone ahead because his sleep pants did nothing to hide his morning wood and I didn't want to be spotted drooling, or staring, or staring and drooling at the same time.

He stops on the right side of the bed and pushes what looks like an ordinary panel of the wall. It springs open revealing the gleaming white tiles of his bathroom behind it.

"Magnetic latches," he mumbles, still looking and sounding half asleep. "The other side's the same," he says.

"Sneaky," I say as I scoot past.

"I'll leave you to it. Come down when you're ready," he tells me as he reaches upwards to rub his hand through his hair.

The action lifts his t-shirt and I get my first look at the Cullen abs. I know I'm staring but I can't help it. My eyes travel downwards and then I'm caught looking at his package and he's grinning like a schoolboy when I snap out of it and look up again.

Thankfully he's too much of a gentleman to call me on it; instead he asks how I have my coffee and promises to have one waiting for me. I tell him thank you and gratefully close the door between us.

I hear him chuckle softly as he leaves and can't help but giggle at little too. I felt like a schoolgirl again myself; I couldn't begrudge him feeling like a teenage boy himself.

**EPOV**

I fairly ran down the stairs and into the bathroom on the ground floor like a racehorse given its head. I made quick work of my business in there and did my best to calm down the mess that was my hair and steady my breathing.

I'd never felt a bigger rush than waking up next to Isabella Swan and I doubted I'd be able to wipe the grin off my face for days because of it.

Morning boner be dammed, I'd been hard half the night, waking on and off to adjust myself or to stop myself from dry humping her butt in those delectable, flimsy little sleep pants of hers.

She'd shifted in the middle of the night, mumbled about being cold and turned herself so that she was flush up against my chest before promptly falling back to sleep.

Seth had come looking for me at some point after I'd fallen asleep too. He'd taken one look at us there on the sofa, whispered that he had the house in lockdown and that our talk could wait until morning. I'd nodded but he'd already left the room by that point.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd slept that long. I didn't even bother trying to have a lie-in on the weekends anymore because no matter what I did, or how much I tried to wear myself out in the pool or the gym, my brain wouldn't let me sleep more than five or six hours a night.

A quick look at the clock on the kitchen wall and I could see that it was just past six in the morning. At a rough guess I'd just slept for nine hours straight. Give or take a few minutes here and there where I'd found myself awake and grinding against her.

And I felt pretty good despite how horrible that sofa was to sleep on. And I'd meant what I'd said; I was replacing that monstrosity today.

I was about to shout for Mrs Davis when I saw her note on the whiteboard on the pantry door. She'd left it to remind me that she'd be late and could I please try not to burn down her kitchen if I could help it.

I couldn't for the life of me remember why she was going to be late but I did chuckle at the fire jab. She knew me well.

I set the coffee machine to start its gurgling and opened the fridge in the hope that a nice breakfast would leap out at me. Of course it didn't. I'd decided on toast and had started searching through cupboards to find the toaster when I heard Isabella padding down the stairs.

Thankfully there was a loaf of bread in the pantry and butter and jams and spreads too so I didn't have to panic too much as she came and sat on one of the stools at the counter.

"Coffee won't be long," I told her as I pushed the first slices of bread down into the toaster.

"Your bathrooms amazing," she said through a barely stifled yawn.

"Yeah, it is," I chuckled. "I stayed in a hotel in Singapore years ago that had one of those rainwater head things and I knew if I ever got the chance I'd have one for myself," I admit as I pour her coffee and slide it across the counter.

She cups it, sniffs it and then takes a big gulp before moaning. "God that's good," she moans and takes another sip.

"Can I confess something?" I asked, making her raise an eyebrow before nodding. "I can't cook," I said as sheepishly as I could. "That there," I said pointing to her cup, "that's me at the top of my game."

I wait for the disappointment to show on her face but instead all I see is a gorgeous smile. "You big faker," she giggles, pointing at me. "You were trying to impress me, weren't you?"

"Something like that," I admit, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise up my chest and up my throat.

"You don't have to try," she whispers and takes another sip of her coffee. "I already like you, you know. And whether you can cook or not won't change that. Besides, making good coffee is worth more than being able to make a steak that doesn't taste like inner sole," she laughs.

"That's good because if I tried to make a steak I'd probably burn the house down and I really love that rainwater head up there," I joke, pointing towards the upstairs.

"Is there one in the guest bathroom?" she asks as I slide her toast towards her. "Thank you," she says as she reaches for the Vegemite.

"Nope," I'm happy to tell her. "Only I've got one so you'd better be nice to me or I won't let you use it," I tease, pointing my butter knife at her.

"Ahh," she says seriously but with a wicked smile on her lips at the same time, "you might have one of those shower thingy's but I've got the big tub down there," she says pointing over her shoulder and down the hall to where the guest rooms were. "And I've gotta tell you, that tub and I are great friends already and I noticed you don't have a tub at all."

Now it was my turn to be smug. "That's true; I don't have a tub in that bathroom. Quite true," I say as seriously as I can without giving the game away. "But, if you go upstairs, push on the wall on the other side of the bed and take a look in there you might just find that I have actually trumped your _little_ tub in the guest room," I say with a laugh.

She shoved the last of her toast into her mouth in one piece and took off up those stairs like her sweet little ripe ass was on fire. I couldn't help the bark of laughter that came out of my throat as she ran.

I spread some Vegemite onto my own toast and waited for her reaction to the full sized spa bath in the ensuite on the other side of the bedroom.

"One, two, three, four..." I counted out loud before I heard her squeal.

She was back in a flash, panting from the exertion and looking for all the world like a teenager as she bounded across the polished wooden floors before skidding to a stop at the counter again.

"You win," she laughed. "That's the biggest fucking tub I've ever seen! I could do laps in it! You could invite ten friends and still have enough room for the pool boy to join you!"

I choked on my coffee then. "Pool boy?" I asked, still laughing as I wiped the coffee from my mouth. "Can't say I've ever thought of that. I don't think he's really my type but who knows, in swimming trunks he might look better than he does normally."

"You have a pool boy, don't you?" she asks, one hand on her hip and one eyebrow quirked in my direction. "Of course you have a pool boy," she hisses. "Where's the pool?" she asks and I point to her right.

She's off and running again and then she's squealing again and running and skidding back to where I'm still munching on my toast.

"What else?" she asks excitedly and I can't help but grin.

"Sauna and gym tucked under the terrace," I mark off on my fingers. "Twelve seat private theatre upstairs. Full sized bar and billiards room downstairs. Oh and there's a dungeon down there under Seth's suite," I tell her cheekily. "On the plans it said it was a wine cellar but everyone knows that's code for a dark, sound proof den of iniquity."

"Of course it is," she scoffs.

Her eyes had widened as I'd listed the best features of my home and I found myself wondering why I'd been worried about showing her around the night before. She wouldn't have thought I was an asshole showing off, she'd have just been excited because she was a sweet girl.

"I'll show you everything after work tonight," I promised before I could stop myself. It felt so natural to expect, or assume, that she'd be coming home with me again. "Your toast's getting cold," I said quickly to cover my assumption.

"Sorry," she said as she slid back onto the stool. "I got a bit excited," she grinned as she chewed the toast.

"I was worried last night," I admit quietly. "I didn't want to look like I was showing off so I let you check the place out yourself."

She cocked her head to the side and regarded me for just a few seconds before swallowing. "There's nothing wrong with being proud of what you've achieved you know," she said seriously. "I wouldn't have thought you were showing off if you wanted to give me a tour. I'd think you were proud of what you have and there's not a thing wrong with that.

"You're very successful, everyone knows that, but I'm not one of those people who think it's been easy, or that it's all fallen into your lap without a lot of hard work and sleepless nights. This kind of wealth," she says as she waves around, "you pay for with more than just money."

I was around that counter and pulling her around to face me within seconds and as I lowered my mouth to hers all I could think was that she got it. She got me. She understood me.

**BPOV**

I didn't know what I'd said or done to make him react as he had but I hoped to god and all that was holy that I'd work it out so I could do it again!

This kiss was different from the others we'd shared so far. He seemed hungry and not for more toast either. He held me tighter, his body was pressed harder up against my thighs and his lips were more insistent too.

I liked it.

I liked him.

Everything about him.

And as he kissed me more and more urgently I felt my body respond in a way it hadn't in a long, long time.

The soft 'ahem' startled us both and we sprang apart like two kids caught sneaking sweets between meals.

"Sorry," Seth said quietly as he came into the kitchen. "I heard someone running and someone squealing so I figured you two were up. I can go if you want," he grimaced in his embarrassment at having caught us like that.

"No, no," I said a little too quickly and probably a little too loudly. "We were just, I mean, I was just...Jesus Seth," I giggled. "Cough _before_ you come into a room next time," I laughed.

"I've never had to cough at _any_ time before," he said cheekily, raising his eyebrows at Edward suggestively.

"Well now might be a good time to start," Edward replied a little too seriously I thought.

"Be nice," I told him as I cuffed him on the arm. "His little boy is growing up, its gotta be tough," I giggled as Seth snorted.

"Little boy," Edward huffed. "There's eight months between us," he scoffs. "You sound just like my mother," he tells me.

"She's awesome so I'll take that as a compliment," I say before poking my tongue out at him and sliding down off the stool. "I'm taking the first shower because you're grumpy," I tell him sternly. "Did you know he's got a rainwater thingy in his bathroom?" I ask Seth as I make to leave to collect my toiletries.

"I did not know that," Seth chuckled as he poured himself a mug of coffee. "Us poor servants have to make do with a hose pipe hanging out of the wall below floors," he teased.

"Poor servants," Edward snorted as he slid into my now vacant seat. "The amount I pay you every year you could afford a bigger place than this."

"I could," I heard Seth reply as I got to the door of the guest room. "But then you'd be here all on your own and you know you can't live without me, little boy."

I didn't hear what Edward's reply to that was but it must have been good because when I came back into the kitchen they were both still laughing.

"You don't mind me trying out your shower, do you?" I asked as I stole a sip of his coffee. "Urgh, no sugar," I mutter as I put the cup back down.

"That'll teach you for stealing," he teases. "And no, I don't mind you using my shower. Take your time."

"But don't you usually leave for work earlier than this?" I ask looking up at the clock, noting it was after six.

"Not today, today I'm going to be late," he says with a grin.

"It's the apocalypse," Seth laughs, throwing his hands in the air dramatically and I can't help but grin too.

"Well then, if you're going to be late on purpose I will take my time," I tell him and head for the stairs.

"Don't fuck this up," I hear Seth say as I hit the top step.

"If I even look like coming close beat me about the head to knock some sense into me," Edward replies.

I skip all the way into his bathroom after hearing that.

**EPOV**

My bathroom smelled just like her when I got a turn to use it. The room was still filled with steam and the floor of the shower still wet as I got into it.

Except for when Mrs Davis cleaned it nobody had ever been in my bathroom before. Nobody had ever used the other bathroom either.

I found I liked the idea of Isabella lounging in the spa bath there. I found I liked the idea of us sharing a space and I found the idea of us sharing anything at all thrilling.

I stood under the scalding hot water and thought about what Seth had revealed in the kitchen and how it was to be fixed or at the very least undone.

It was Seth's opinion that Tanya had planned whatever it was she was trying to achieve so well because she knew me well enough to be able to predict what my moves were going to be to thwart her.

She'd either predicted or guessed that I'd install a doorman at Isabella's building and so she'd camped out inside the building the day before confronting my girlfriend. It was the only scenario Seth could come up with to account for her presence in the building without appearing on the visitors list.

There was only one entry and exit point and that was past his man. He'd checked with the other residents and matched their visitors to the log so she hadn't signed in under a false name or gotten in because she was known by another resident. She had to have been already inside it when Seth locked it down.

As for her getting out again that had been simple.

Stanley had logically believed that the strawberry blonde leaving the building had been signed in by Ethan on the previous shift and was leaving after visiting legitimately. I couldn't fault him for that; it's what I would've concluded as well.

Exactly what Tanya wanted from me was still not clear but Seth was impressed with Isabella's theories enough to check them out discreetly. That would be his task for the day. To meet with Eleazar and find out what he knew of his daughters whereabouts and any information he had about her plans.

By the time I was dressed and ready to start my work day I had begun to worry about Isabella leaving. Jasper would be back in his own home that night and she'd be able to stay there, or even with Alice. There was no legitimate reason for her to stay with me even though I wanted her to.

A few minutes later that was the least of my worries as I came downstairs to find her leaning over the kitchen counter with her head buried in the mornings newspaper. She was cursing under her breath and I knew that whatever they'd printed today wasn't going to be good, if that was her reaction.

"How bad?" I asked as I set my briefcase on the floor.

"The stories okay," she told me quietly, "but the picture is going to give my father a stroke."

"I'll deny it. I'll sue anyone who says I did it," I say before I've even seen the picture.

There were tears in her eyes as she turned to face me and my stomach dropped. She slid the paper across to me and I looked down at a grainy picture of the two of us out on her balcony locked in a kiss.

"Oh fuck," I spat before I could stop myself.

"No, no, I understand," she cries, her tears having overflowed and run down her cheeks.

I understood my mistake instantly so I pushed the paper away and met her head on. I wiped her tears away with my fingers then settled my hands on her shoulders. "I was sure they'd gotten a picture of you with your cut lip," I tell her firmly. "I meant I'd sue if the story said I'd hit you. I'm not ashamed of you," I bark. "That picture might give your father a stroke but it's given me a hard on. Oh fuck, I mean, I don't...I mean, Jesus Christ," I snap.

But she's laughing then. Her tears have retreated and she's laughing hard. And then she's on her toes and her hands are in my hair and she's pulling me down to her lips.

She ends it too soon and I'm left wanting more, but I understand why she'd done it. She'd effectively shut me up.

"I'm not ashamed of you either," she whispers between us as she strokes the back of my neck. "And it is a good picture. As for your reaction, well, that's the nicest thing any man's ever said to me. Thank you."

"You're an enigma," I whisper in reply. "I never know how you'll react to things. It's never what I expect. You keep me guessing and that excites the hell out of me."

"You make me feel good," she whispers before kissing me softly just once. "You excite the hell out of me too."

"Stay here again tonight, please?" I blurt out a little too hurriedly.

"I'll have to go home eventually," she whispers and I nod. "And I can go to Jasper's or a hotel."

"Please?" I beg.

"I'll need to stop and collect some more clothes," she says and I tell her that Jared will take her. "I'll stay but I'm not sleeping on that sofa again. Tonight we sleep in a bed, deal?"

My answer is to swoop down and kiss the hell out of her.

The cough, when it comes this time, comes from a ways away and I can't help but laugh. "Come on in Seth," I call as we part. "He's a quick study," I tell Isabella conspiratorially.

"Lucky for him or we'd have to put a bell around his neck," she giggles as she reaches for her backpack.

I'm still laughing at that when Seth shoulder checks me as he passes on his way to the foyer. "Are we going to work or are we going to spend all day lip locked?" he calls as he opens the front door.

"I like him," she whispers not so quietly. "And he has some great ideas."

"I tolerate him," I chuckle as I scoop up my briefcase. I was about to reach for her she but slid her hand into mine without prompting. I raised that hand to my lips and kissed it softly. "Ready?" I asked, though I wasn't. Not nearly.

"Are they still out there?" she asked Seth who nodded a little sadly. "Right," she said firmly. "Chins up, smiles on, let's do this."

"I like her," Seth says with a grin as we go out the door.

**BPOV**

The Cullen Enterprises building was huge, simply massive, and the floor we got out of the lift at was like something out of a movie. Gleaming glass and chrome –which seemed to be something Edward liked both at work and at home – was everywhere.

The main part of the floor was open and spacious with just a reception desk off to one side, behind which a stunning blonde was grinning. The rest of the space had small groupings of comfy looking chairs with low tables between them, probably for meetings and such.

There were doors at even intervals along one wall that I guessed other executives worked behind and I wondered which ones was Emmett's.

"Thank you, Kate," I heard Edward say behind me as he took a sheaf of papers from the blonde. "Isabella this is Kate, my personal assistant," he said as he introduced us.

"Nice to meet you," I smiled.

"And you, Miss Swan," she said.

"Bella, just Bella," I asked of her. "Only Edward calls me Isabella," I said, turning and raising an eyebrow at the imposing figure of Edward Cullen in work mode.

"It's your name and I happen to like it," he quipped before poking his tongue out at me. Kate coughed and I couldn't help but laugh. I would wager that nobody in the building had ever seen him do that before! "My mother will be coming today at some point, so find me when she arrives please," he told her, switching instantly back to work mode. "Jared will be calling for Isabella shortly but in the meantime could you please gather a pack for her? And she'll need a passkey for the executive lift and one for the private garage too please.

"Can you have Maria call me at some point today? I'll need to speak to Marcus from Malita Steel before my nine o'clock meeting and I'll need a few minutes with Emmett before then too if he's in. I've signed the contracts for the Asia deal, they're in there," he told her as he handed over an envelope. "Get them certified and can you ask Alistair to run over them one more time before the copies get sent to their lawyers? They've agreed to pay in three parts and the details for the transfers need sorting out so have Alec look over that please. As for you," he said, turning his attention back to me, "come with me."

I waved to Kate who looked as though she'd just seen an alien and then followed him through an imposing pair of doors into his office.

My heart was beating out my chest by the time the doors softly closed behind us. This side of him I'd never seen, the in command, totally in control Edward who was hotter than the surface of the sun as he handed out the days orders to his assistant.

There wasn't an inch of self consciousness about him here. He walked taller. There was no stammer in his voice and he didn't fidget or second guess a single word.

"This is my office," he said, shaking me from my thoughts.

"It's big," I giggle as I walk further into it and swivel to take it all in. "You like leather and chrome, huh?" I asked as I ran my hand over the arm of the chair opposite his desk.

"It's clean and lasts," he shrugs as he starts removing things from his briefcase.

"But not comfortable," I tease.

"That sofa will be gone by the time we get home tonight," he grins and my heart starts doing that flip flop thing again.

"Which one of your minions will you assign the task?" I tease and immediately know I've said the wrong thing.

His face clouds over and there it is, the fidgeting. He runs his hand through his hair and sighs heavily. "They aren't minions," he says softly. "They're my people and I like and trust them. Maria is the wife of one of my managers at the plant in Rooty Hill. She's a professional buyer for a major store chain. I met her at a Christmas function about nine years ago, just before I had my house built, and she offered to help me decorate it. She's been buying for me ever since."

"I'm sorry," I tell him, because I was. "It was rude of me to imply that you don't treat employees well. I know that you do, I can tell that you do. I'm sorry."

"Forgiven," he says quietly and it seems the matter is dropped, just like that.

It's not what I'm used to. I'm used to hurt feelings taking days to dissipate, or being held against me for days. I'm used to having to do days of penance and I'm used to being yelled at and berated for my opinions. But Edward can let things go, just like that, and I think I like him just a little bit more than I already did.

I watch him settle himself into his chair and once he's sitting I go to him. I stand beside him and put my hand on his shoulder before bending down just a little and kissing him softly on the top of his head. "You're a good guy, Edward," I tell him.

"I try to be," he says as he covers my hand with his and squeezes. "Now, Jared will be here in a minute so let's get our ducks in a row."

"Sure," I tell him though I have no idea what ducks he's referring to. I move away and sit opposite his desk. And yep, the chair was bloody uncomfortable.

"What would you like for dinner tonight?" he asks seriously and I can't help but laugh.

"That's what we need to get in a row?" I giggle and he nods. "I thought we were going to talk about how to deal with Tanya, or what we're going to tell people when the press prints the pictures of me leaving your house with you this morning, but you want to talk about food."

"Seth is dealing with the Tanya issue," he says firmly. "We won't tell anyone anything about you leaving my house with me this morning, unless you want to tell them, then you can tell them whatever you'd like."

"I think I'll keep my mouth firmly shut," I scoff. "Except for Jasper and Alice, who are going to grill me mercilessly over it the instant I set foot in the office this morning," I cringe. "Not to mention the interrogation I'm going to get from my dad."

"Would you like me to speak with him?" he asks.

"Why would you?"

"Because his daughter was photographed entering my home last night, and again emerging from it this morning. He'll think I've...I mean, he'll believe that we...he's going to kill me and bury me in the bush, isn't he?" he asks, gulping loudly.

I can't help but laugh. "He's all talk," I giggle but earn a raised eyebrow and a soft scoff from across the desk. "He is," I insist. "He talks a good game but I'm old enough to make my own decisions. He'll ask me about you, and I'll be honest, but he won't judge and he won't try to change my mind."

His raised eyebrow was adorable. "Try to change your mind about what?"

"About being seen kissing you," I say sweetly.

"Good to know," he chuckles, taking one of my lines and using it perfectly. "Now, before we head off in different directions, and you face the grilling from your family, what would you like to eat this evening?"

"Are you cooking it?" I ask cheekily.

"Definitely not," is his quick reply. "We need it to be edible at the very least. Mrs Davis will make whatever we ask for."

"Then anything is fine with me."

"Good," he says, making a note on his blotter. "Now kiss me goodbye and go and see Kate before Jared turns up."

"Yes Mr Cullen," I tease. He meets me at the edge of his desk and we share a very brief, very sweet goodbye kiss. "What time will you be finishing tonight, do you think?" I ask as I gather my backpack.

"Five," he grins. "Where would you like collecting from?"

"The staff will talk about you leaving early again," I admonish with a wag of my finger at him. "I'll meet you back here at five. I only have a few hours worth of work at Jasper's so I'll have time to go back to my place and grab a few things."

"Please be careful at your building," he sighs as he reaches for my hand and squeezes it. "I don't think Tanya will try again, but please be careful. And call me if anything happens. Or if your father does manage to change your mind. Or if you want to change your mind about what you'd like for dinner..." he stammers adorably.

"How's about I just call you at some point during the day? Just to say hi? Would that work for you?" I ask, knowing exactly how he felt about the prospect of having no contact all day until five.

"Yeah," he sighs. "That'd work for me."

"Good," I say as I go to the door. "Have a good day and I'll see you at five."

He thanks me and wishes me a good day too before I duck back out of his office. It was like pulling a bandaid off, having to leave. I could quite happily spend the whole day just sitting quietly in his office watching and listening to him work.

"Jared's on his way up," Kate calls across the way and I snap out of my daydreaming immediately.

It wouldn't do to be caught mooning over her boss, after all.

"Should I just wait here for him?" I wonder aloud.

"I have a pack for you," she tells me but I've got no idea what a pack is, and I say so. "Oh, it's a credentials pack so you can move around the building," she informs me as she tips the contents of a yellow envelope out onto the top edge of her desk. "This is a temporary pass I'm afraid because I didn't know your date of birth and we don't have a photo of you to make a proper one yet, but we can sort that out another time," she tells me as she hands me a lanyard with an ID card hanging from it.

"This is your pass for the regular lift bank and this is the key pass for the one that will bring you up here. You don't need to swipe in the regular lift but there's a slot on the wall by the private one. Just swipe this through and a carriage will come and collect you.

"Same goes for the parking passes. This is for the employee carpark which is on levels B1 through 3, and this one is for the private parking garage where Mr Cullen and the other executives park. You need to enter via Albion Street to use the private one and you just swipe this through the box by the boom gate and you'll be good to go."

"Wow," I say stupidly.

"I had exactly the same reaction the first day I came to work here too," she said with a wink.

"You know I don't work here," I say softly, "and you've probably read this morning's paper too, but it's kind of you to not mention it."

"They're vermin," she hisses. "You're very brave for not responding."

"Or very stupid," I mutter. "Time will tell."

"I don't think you're stupid and neither does anyone else," she says with a smile. "Don't rat me out but I've never seen Mr Cullen this happy. He's actually smiling," she says with a raised eyebrow. "All of my friends think that Mr Cullen..."

"Doesn't like gossip," I hear from behind me.

"Yes Mrs Cullen, I mean, no Mrs Cullen," Kate stammers and quickly busies herself behind her desk.

"So lovely to see you again so soon, Bella," Esme Cullen says as she steps towards me. "I saw Jared in the lobby so I know there isn't time for us to catch up, but I hope you'll come with Edward on Friday night for dinner?" she asks.

"He hasn't mentioned it," I mumble, totally thrown by her commanding voice with Kate just now and her ability to switch that off and go back to the sweet, bubbly Esme I knew.

"He will," she smiles. "I'll show myself in, Kate," she says to the red faced girl, "I'll see you on Friday, dear," she calls to me as she walks right on into Edward's office without knocking.

"All your friends think what about Mr Cullen?" I ask, leaning over the edge of the desk, as soon as the office door is shut.

She looks beyond me, towards the office door and then she smiles. "All my friends and I think Mr Cullen deserves to smile."

"Me too," I tell her and thank her for the 'pack'.

**EPOV**

My mother, who never felt the need to knock, barged into my office not five minutes after Isabella's departure and caught me standing at the windows staring off into space daydreaming.

"Good morning, darling," she said, startling me from my thoughts.

"Good morning, mom," I reply hastily, desperately trying to get my head together before she began her version of a very polite Spanish Inquisition.

"I only have a little while, I've got a board meeting," she informed me after a quick look at her watch. She sat down and took out her notebook from the depths of her handbag. "So let's do this the simple way, shall we?"

"Please," I sigh, earning a stern glance as I too sat down at my desk.

"I'll ask, you answer," she said matter of factly and I nodded, pleased it could quite possibly be a little less painful if I just had to give yes or no answers. "Good. Was the picture in this morning's paper taken before or after the assault?"

"After," I replied.

"Good. That means her lip can't be that badly hurt if you were kissing her after," she grins. "I've just seen her in the foyer by the way, and if I hadn't known what to look for I wouldn't have noticed it. So you might get away with it. Now," she went on, given me no opportunity to respond, and I was grateful for that. "Your father advised you to ask often about her knuckles, did you?"

I cringe as I tell her no, I hadn't asked often. "But she would've..."

"Never mind, if she's not complaining about them they're probably just bruised according to your father," she went on, not allowing me to finish that statement either. "Is she going to be staying with you indefinitely?"

"I don't know."

"Is she staying with you again tonight?"

"Yes."

"And will you ask her to stay again tomorrow night?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then that's a start and you can bring her with you for dinner."

"She might not..." was as far as I got that time.

"She'll come," mom said confidently. "Can I add her name to the guest list for the Winter Ball next month?"

"I haven't said _I'd_ go yet."

"You'll go," she says firmly and I nod because she's right. I'll go. I just won't like it. "Ask her and let me know if she can attend."

"Give me a chance to..."

"Don't mess this up," she said firmly whilst pointing across my desk directly at me, her eyes scrunched up and her lips pursed.

"I'll try but it's not just up to me."

"You've been alone long enough and she's perfect for you. A mother knows and that's an end to it."

"Yes, mom," I sigh because really, what else could I say?

"Is Seth looking for Tanya?" she asked next, switching topics so fast I had conversational whiplash.

"Yes."

"And he'll speak with Eleazar?"

"Yes."

"Is there anything you need me to do there?"

"No."

"And Jacob Black, is there any chance he's behind this and not Tanya?"

"I don't think so, no. It was Tanya who paid the original journalist and it was Tanya who assaulted Isabella, so there's nothing to say Jake Black had anything to do with any of this, no."

"Seth's still checking?"

"Seth's still checking," I agree.

"Bella was engaged to him once," she says and I nod. "Is it possible that he and Tanya have gotten together to exact some sort of silly revenge?"

The thought had crossed my mind and on Tanya's behalf a case might have been able to be made to that end, but what revenge Jake could be seeking was beyond me. I never heard a word about him being charged with, or even suspected of, being abusive toward her so he's lucky that information never got out. He'd have been ruined for sure.

As it was there was very little gossip and a lot of speculation about why they split but nothing concrete was ever said publicly as far as I remembered and as far as I'd been able to find out since.

"Nothing's impossible," I settle for, "but that seems unlikely and there's no proof right now that they even know each other."

"But Seth's still checking?" she asks again.

"And Seth's still checking," I assure her.

"Bella will continue her classes?" she asks, switching topics again.

"Definitely. No reason she shouldn't."

"Good. You have Jared with her when she's on campus?"

"He's switching out with Tyler, yes. But not just when she's on campus, I've put them on full time."

"And the Governance Committee's opinion is what?"

"They didn't blink. It's nothing to do with them and she's done nothing to bring the name of the university itself into disrepute, so they aren't even considering talking to her at all."

"Thank Belinda for me on Friday evening, please."

"I will."

"Will you take Bella to the club with you after dinner then?"

"I haven't asked her to dinner, or to the club, so I don't know at this stage."

"So ask."

"I will," I sigh, again because there was no point arguing about any of it. I wanted to ask her to come to dinner and I wanted her to come to the club with me after, I just hadn't gotten around to asking her yet.

"Are you planning to make a public statement?"

"No."

"Promise me, if you change your mind, that you'll let Emmett craft it?"

"I will."

"Well that's all I've got on my list for now. Is there anything you need from me?"

"Will you make lasagne on Friday night if I bring her?" I ask cheekily.

"If you get her to accept the invitation I'll make anything you like, darling," she grins.

"Will you stop dad and Rosie from telling horrible childhood stories about me if I get her to come?" I beg, hoping she could.

"Not a chance," she laughs as she gathers her things. "Rose had to endure it and I see no reason why you shouldn't. It's a rite of passage for siblings. Get through it with a smile on your face and she'll be impressed."

"She knows which one is my game face," I chuckle.

"Good. There'll be no way you can get any bullshit by her. I knew I liked her but that cements it, if she's got your number already," she says as she comes and kisses me on the cheek as a goodbye. "I'm sorry for the interrogation but I needed to be quick, darling. We'll talk some more when things settle down."

"Okay, mom," I tell her.

"I'll talk to you before then but I'm looking forward to seeing you both on Friday," she says as she goes out my office door.

**BPOV**

The grilling from Alice was done the girly way. Lots of gossiping, lots of giggling and lots of secret women's business passed between the two of us as we drank coffee and ate some of her cupcake samples.

I described his home and how he was when he was in it. I told her how we'd fallen asleep on the sofa and how good it had felt to wake up with him right there behind me.

We talked about him admitting, rather sweetly we agreed, that he couldn't cook.

I told her about his office and how he switched to business mode so easily. I told her how I'd offended him and about our misunderstanding about the picture in the paper that morning.

I told her I was staying there again that night and we both squealed at the thought of me sharing a bed with him, even if it was just to sleep. For now I'd told her with a grin.

The interrogation from my brother, who had been getting pointers from our father by the looks of it, was done in his office (which he never used) and definitely didn't include any giggling.

What it did contain was a lot of very pointed questions and a lot of very pointed threats should Edward Cullen hurt me in any way, shape or form.

I let him play big brother for a little while and nodded at appropriate moments, but after about twenty minutes I was just about up to pussy's bow.

When he said he wanted to meet with Edward in private before I saw him again, to gauge his intentions, I drew the line.

"That's not going to happen," I said firmly. "You've already met him and I'm twenty six years old, not sixteen anymore," I told him as I got to my feet.

"You might be twenty six now but you're still my little sister," he countered.

"Little sister, yes, but not your responsibility!" I shouted back.

"Who else is looking out for you?" he roared as he too got to his feet. "You think Edward Cullen has your best interests at heart? He's a cold blooded bastard, Bell's. You only have to read the papers to know that."

"According to the papers I'm a gold digging whore. Do you believe that too?" I asked in a hiss, my anger rising by degrees.

"Of course not," he barked. "But I know you. I don't know him from Adam and neither do you."

"You met him!" I snarl back. "You had dinner with him, at your own house. You laughed and told stories and you seemed to like him fine then," I remind him. "I've spent time with him. I know his family quite well, his mother very well actually. I've watched him at work and at his home and I know that he's done absolutely everything he possibly could to shelter me from the press this week."

"But not from his girlfriend," he roars, pointing to my lip.

"She's not his girlfriend!" I shriek. "I told you that. She's a nutter Jaz. We don't know what her angle is but she's full of shit. He's never led her on, dated her or even kissed her before. They're family friends. That's all. It's all in her head this jilted lover crap."

"And you found this out how?" he asks and I'm not quite quick enough to not fall into his trap.

"Edward told me," I say.

"And of course he's got no reason to lie," he said sarcastically.

"Why would he lie?"

"Because he can!" he shouts.

"To what end?" I demand.

"Why did we just spend four days in Gladstone? Think about it, Bell's. He needs his public image to improve. What better way to do that than to be seen with you. The pristinely clean daughter of an ex cop whose working hard on a degree and working part time here to pay her way. You're perfect for what he needs."

"Okay, say that's true, and it's not, how would it help him clean up his public image to be seen dating me only to dump me to marry Tanya Denali?"

"Stoker," he says softly and I have to strain to catch it.

"What?" I ask eventually when I can't get my head around what he's trying to tell me.

"She's not Tanya Denali. She's Tanya Denali Stoker. She's freshly divorced, Bell's. Not even a year ago in fact. His family and probably most of the business world he lives in would not be impressed if he married a divorcee. If he's playing you it's because you're perfect for his image and she's not. It wouldn't take much for him to parade you around, get a few pictures into the press of the two of you under the heading of 'budding new romance'," he says using his fingers to make the quotation marks.

"I don't understand," I whisper, a sick feeling churning in my stomach.

"Oh Bell's," my brother sighs as he sits back down. "Think about it. It is possible. I don't want it to be, but it is possible. He gets himself seen with you and when the timing's right he dumps you and falls into the arms of his ex lover who is still unsuitable, but a little less unsuitable compared to the heartless little girl who hurt him so horribly. He rides out the poor, broken hearted angle and the press eat it up. Nobody would say a word about him returning to Tanya after you're made out to be the bitch in the equation."

I can't help the tears. They fall without my permission. It's not true and I know it's not true, but hearing my brother speak about Edward like that, knowing Jasper thought he could be capable of being so cold and calculating hurt. It actually physically hurt.

"You're wrong," I tell him quietly as I wipe at my eyes with the backs of my hands. "They've known each other since they were little kids. If he wanted her he could've been with her long before she married. Probably right out of high school, or at least university. If he had any feelings for her at all he could've acted on them years ago.

"And," I say, getting to my feet again as my confidence and conviction grew, "she's in the same boat. If she truly had feelings for him she could've acted on them when they were much younger. A woman who truly loves a man does not go off and marry someone else and then come back for a second shot. She stakes her claim from the off.

"He doesn't want her and he never has. He told me so himself and I believe him. Not because my judgement is clouded but because it makes no sense that he'd wait until she'd married and then divorced to want her. You're wrong and I don't care what you think or say you'll still be wrong about this.

"This is nothing to do with me. Its Tanya's delusions driving this. Not anything I've done or even anything Edward's done. If you think differently keep it to yourself," I hiss across the desk and make for the door. I'd had enough.

"I want to be wrong," he shouts across the room behind me. "But I don't trust him."

"You don't have to!" I yell as I yank open the door. "Only I have to and I do!"

"You trusted Jake!" he counters and I wheel around immediately.

"You've forgotten that you trusted Jake too, brother," I hiss. "You never asked him what his intentions were. Maybe you should have! You could've saved me a few trips to the emergency room!"

I left him there, mouth open agog at what I'd said, and ran out of the office.

Jared was on his feet right away and moving towards me just as fast as I was travelling towards him.

"What is it?" he asked, his eyeballs swivelling around looking for the problem.

"I need to leave, _now_," I hiss.

"Done," he says firmly. "Wipe your eyes and smooth out your hair," he instructs as we march towards the front door of the building. "There are only two out there but that's enough." He waits until I've done as he asked and then he looks me in the eye. "I don't need to know what happened in there but if you show any of it on your face they'll eat you alive. So chin up. Smile as best you can. Stay at my shoulder and when I speak you laugh out loud, go it?"

"Laugh?" I ask hesitantly. I didn't understand the game he wanted me to play.

"When I speak you laugh. Trust me," he says with a grin and we move to the door.

He counts us down and then we're outside in the bright sunlight and moving at a good clip towards the waiting car.

The questions are relentless as usual and I have to work hard to keep the smile on my face.

We're halfway to the car when Jared puts his plan into action.

"I farted I the foyer and it smelled of brussels sprouts," he whispers and I crack up.

I'm really laughing and it's not fake either. He's disgusting and I want to be grossed out but the deadpan way he delivered the line just cracked me up.

Before I know it I'm in the car and he's pulling away from the parking lot.

"You did well," he says once we're far enough away, leaving the press where they were, way behind us.

"You're a pig," I tell him, "but thanks."

"No probs, boss," he says cheekily. "Where are we heading?"

"My place please."

"Short or long stay?" he asks.

"Short. I want to go back to Cullen Enterprises after that please."

"On it, boss," he says.

**EPOV**

"I fucked up," Jasper Swan tells me the instant I've answered his call. "We got into an argument and your guy drove off with her before I had a chance to apologise and now I have no idea where she's gone, she won't answer her phone and the press are fucking relentless!"

I can hear the worry and panic in his voice and do my best to tamp mine down. "Okay," I say calmly. "Brothers and sisters fight. She'll forgive you and you can both put this behind you. For right now you calm down and give me five minutes to check in with my guy, whose name is Jared by the way. I'll call you right back."

"Hurry," he says and I agree that I will.

I'm dialling Jared immediately and thankfully he picks up on the first ring.

"I've got her, boss. We're heading to her apartment real quick then heading back to you," he tells me straight up.

"Thank god," I sigh.

"She did well. Really well. You want to talk to her?"

"Yeah, I do, and thanks."

"Here she is," he says and I hear some fumbling and rustling as he hands over his phone.

"Edward?" she asks and I can hear the anguish in her voice.

"Hey pretty girl, you alright there?" I ask as calmly as I can.

"I had a fight with Jasper," she whispers.

"I know. I've just had him on the phone. He's pretty worried about you and pretty desperate to apologise too."

"Oh god," she wails and I want to be there with her so badly. "You don't need this shit," she hisses.

"If it involves or upsets you it isn't shit," I tell her firmly. "And I need whatever it is you need me to need. That made sense in my head," I chuckle.

She's laughing then and I can relax just a little. "You're crazy," she giggles and I relax a little more. "Is it okay if I come back to your building until you're ready to leave? I don't want to be at my apartment alone all afternoon. I promise you won't even know I'm there. I'll be quiet, sit out in the meeting area and do my homework."

"Of course you can come here. Any time. I'll see you soon. Put me back on to Jared real quick," I ask of her and she says she'll see me soon before I hear the same rustling sounds.

"Yeah, boss?" Jared says when he's got the phone again.

"You wait at her apartment door for her. She isn't to be on her floor alone are we clear?"

"Done," he says in typical bodyguard fashion.

"When you've dropped her off here I need you to go back and collect her brother and Alice from Swan Catering and take them to my house, okay?"

"Done," he says again.

"Drive carefully," I tell him and end the call. I dial Jasper and he answers on the first ring too. "She's with Jared safe and sound. She wants to go to her apartment to collect some things and then she's coming here to wait for me to be finished for the day. But I'll finish up as soon as she gets here and get Seth to take us to my place. Jared is going to double back and collect you and Alice and bring you to my place too so you can all sort this out. Does that suit you?"

"Yeah, I guess," he says quietly.

"Then I'll see you in an hour or so."

"Yeah, see you then, and thanks," he says.

I end the call and buzz for Kate as I begin to tidy my desk and throw what I'd need at home into my briefcase.

"Do you have your pad?" I ask and she holds it and a pen out for me to see. "I'm done for today. Cancel what you can, reschedule everything else for next week," I tell her when she comes in. "Tell Alec I'll need the transfer documents ready by the close of business tomorrow at the latest and he can fax them to me at the home number any time between now and then and I'll sign them and send them right back."

"Got it," she says efficiently.

"Set up a conference call with Equity for tomorrow morning early and make sure that Andrew, Shane, Liam and the relief factory supervisors are all in on the call. Any time after nine is fine."

"Got it," she says again.

"Change my flight from Tuesday to Wednesday late, after business hours. And book two tickets. Contact Sonia and tell her I'm sorry but I'll have to reschedule the meeting to the Thursday. I'm giving her an extra day so she shouldn't bitch about it too much. And book me anywhere other than the last place I stayed down there. Make the booking for two, tentatively."

"Got it."

"The return flight has to be not later than six Thursday evening, charter a flight if you have to. I'll need two seats on that too."

"I'll do my best."

"Is there anything you need from me before I go?"

"Nothing that can't wait," she says, "unless you'll be gone from the office for longer than a day or so?"

It was a crafty way to ask if I was ditching school, and if I was for how long, but I didn't mind. "I'm taking the next two days off and I don't know if I'll be in on Monday either. I'll let you know." I heard her gasp and had to laugh. "I've never taken two consecutive days off before, have I?" I ask.

"No, sir," she says softly.

"I can trust you not to gossip about this, can't I Kate?" I ask seriously.

"Oh no sir, I wouldn't ever. I don't like what's being said about you now so I'd never do anything to make it worse. I promise," she says very quickly.

"I know you wouldn't," I tell her honestly. "Not intentionally. So I'm asking you to be very careful who you speak to over the coming weeks."

"I will," she promises. "I like Bella and well, I like you too, sir. I really like working for you so I won't tell anyone anything."

"Thank you Kate, I like you too, and I'm glad you like working for me, I know I'm not easy most days," I tell her. And didn't that suck? In eight years I'd never told her that I liked her or that I liked that she worked for me.

"You aren't as bad as Alistair," she cringes and I have to agree.

My company lawyer was a real piece of work and near impossible to work with. He'd been through four assistants in four years and every time another one quit it was poor Kate who had to do his bidding until a new one could be found. Or convinced to work for him. Or bribed to work for him.

She did everything for me in the office. She had never once failed me. She put up with my black moods when deals went wrong or I didn't get my way. She brought me coffee and when I asked her not to because I didn't think it should be a part of her job description she told me she liked doing it and would keep doing it, if it was okay with me.

I gave her a healthy raise every year and four weeks annual leave but everyone in the building got those things and they didn't have to put up with me like she did.

"I've got one or two things left to finish up, I'm waiting for Isabella to arrive, and then I'll be heading off. Sort those things out for me," I said, pointing to the notes she'd made on her pad, "and then come and see me, please."

"Yes sir," she said and shut the door behind her as she went.

I didn't have anything left to finish up. I had something I wanted to do for her.

**BPOV**

I packed a bigger bag this time. Not because I intended to impose on Edward's hospitality for longer but because the thought of staying in the apartment right then made me want to puke. I wanted some personal things with me just in case someone got in and ransacked it.

Tanya had gotten in once so she could do it again, no matter Seth's assurances. Plus this would be the first place Jasper looked for me and I didn't want to see him right then so I knew I had to leave.

I knew I couldn't stay mad at him, and not just because he was my brother either. I couldn't stay mad because everything he'd said had come from his concern for me and I knew that if our roles were reversed I'd have said the exact same things.

And I wasn't exactly squeaky clean in the fight either. I'd said something horrible right at the end and I knew it had to have cut him to the bone. He'd spent months, and maybe even still did now, feeling guilty for not stopping Jake sooner. I'd told him a thousand times it wasn't his fault, that I should've told him earlier, but he never listened.

So I knew he was just looking out for me. His methods sucked, but his intentions were good.

We'd make up. We always did.

But right then all I wanted was to get the hell out of Dodge and retreat to the sanctuary of Edward's house. Preferably with him in it.

It was safe there. Nobody could take my picture or harass me. If they shouted out questions I couldn't hear them from inside it and knowing both Edward and Seth were there made me feel better.

It was a bandaid on a broken leg but it was all I had right then and I wanted to cling to it.

So I made quick work of gathering my things, homework included, and I was back in the lift with Jared beside me in ten minutes flat.

We ran the gauntlet again, sans fart jokes this time, and were heading towards the Cullen Enterprises building within half an hour of the fight with Jaz.

Kate was beaming like the cat who'd stolen the canary when I got to the top floor.

"You look happy. Did you win the lottery and just told him to shove his shitty job?" I laughed as I approached her desk.

"Close but no cigar," she laughed back. "He made me promise not to tell you the details, but," she said, motioning for me to lean over so she could whisper, "just between you and me, he's a saint and if I wasn't already married I'd have a huge crush on him."

"Good to know," I laughed, though I had no idea what she was on about. "I'll just be over there," I tell her, pointing towards one of the groupings of chairs and tables.

"He's asked that you go right in when you arrive," she said instead.

"Oh, okay," I shrug and head on into his office.

He was head down and writing furiously but he sat right up when I got in there. He was the picture of worry, his eyes were boring into mine and his lips had a grim set to them.

"I'm fine," I tell him as I go towards his desk.

He's on his feet then, striding towards me. "Do you mind if I check for myself?" he asks with a cheeky grin.

"The doors not locked," I giggle as he folds me into a bear hug. "Argh," I rasp because it was getting hard to breathe.

"What happened?" he asked as he stepped away a little. "I know it's none of my business, but when your brother called in a flap I nearly had a heart attack."

"He started it," I say petulantly.

"He's very worried and dying to apologise," he tells me sagely.

"He should be worried and he should apologise," I sigh, "but I'll have to apologise too. He just made me so mad," I pout. "He's full of theories and bullshit ideas and nothing I said was getting through to him and I lost it. I said some awful things to him."

"It happens," he sighs right back as he nods towards the sofa at the side of the room. We both sit, our knees touching and my hands in his on my thighs. "Rosie and I have gone at it a few times over the years. It can get pretty heated but we always make up and you will too."

"I know we will," I agree. "But right now I just want to be mad at him."

"Ahh," he cringes. "You might not be too amused with me then."

"Why?" I ask gingerly.

"Well he called, as you know, and he was pretty upset and I just...I mean, I don't like it when you're upset and I just thought... Christ," he muttered and pulled a hand out of mine so he could rub his scalp. "I sent Jared back to collect him and Alice, they're on their way to my house as we speak," he grimaces.

"You did?" I ask.

"I did. I'm so sorry. If I'd have known you just wanted to be mad at him for a bit I wouldn't have done it. I should've stayed out of it. I'm a control freak. Jesus, I'm so sorry. It's none of my business and I should've left it alone for you to sort out."

I threw myself at him then. I yanked my hand out of his and threw my arms around his shoulders and kissed him hard.

"Thank you," I whisper onto his lips. "You did that for me? Because you don't like it when I'm upset?"

"I'd do anything for you," he whispers back between kisses. "And it hurts me when you're hurting."

"God, you're so..." I trail off, unable to put words to how wonderful he was. Instead I kiss him again, deeply.

Without even thinking about it I'm in his lap, my thighs around his thighs, my hands raking through his hair while I plunge my tongue into his mouth.

I can feel him beneath me, hard and hot, and I grind myself into his lap a little harder and when he groans right into my mouth I can't help but do the same. His fingers are digging into my hips then, pushing me, pulling me where he needs friction and I'm moaning and whimpering as the fire builds inside me too.

"Not here," he's telling me, one word at a time between pushing his tongue back into my mouth. And I'm agreeing but I can't speak. "Not here," he moans again although he's not stopping and I'm not stopping. "Not like this," he says more gently as he presses his lips to my throat and calms his hands and hips. "I want you, but not here, not like this," he whispers against my throat. "I want to take my time," he groans.

All I can manage is a soft, squeaky 'yeah' but he heard me.

We sit there, panting hard but finally still for long minutes. With his forehead pressed to mine we sit and stare, breathing together in a steady rhythm, eyes locked on one anothers.

"Come home with me," he whispers.

"I already was," I whisper back.

"I know. But come home with me. Not because your brother will be there and you need to apologise, not because you don't feel safe at your place, but because you want to be with me."

"I already was," I say again and he grins beneath me.

"Where have you been?" he asks out of the blue and I don't understand.

"I was at Jasper's," I tell him as he brings his hands up and cups my face softly.

"No," he whispers as his thumbs begin to rub circles on my throat. "Before that, ten years ago, eight months ago, two weeks ago, where have you been?"

I get it then. I understand him perfectly and he's just asked me the most perfect of questions. The answer is a very simple one and it isn't difficult to put into words, not now, not now that I see him. Truly see him.

"I was waiting for you," I whisper and watch the smile bloom on his face.

"I'm so glad," is his reply and I can't help but kiss him one more time very softly.

**EPOV**

It's Seth's knock at the office door that finally separates us, but we don't go far. She slides off my lap and sits beside me on the sofa, but our hands are linked between us as Seth comes in at my urging.

"You two ready?" he asks, grinning down at us.

"Let me pack my case and I'm good to go," I tell him.

"I'll wait out there," he says cautiously, pointing back towards the foyer. "Yeah, I think I'm just gonna wait out there," he chuckles as I stand.

He leaves very quickly, almost running, and then Isabella's giggling softly behind me as I approach my desk.

"I know you're comfortable in slacks but jeans hide that much better," she laughs, pointing at my crotch.

"Jesus," I mutter darkly and quickly sit behind my desk to start gathering my papers together. "Distract me," I beg of her as I draw together the folders I'll need at home.

"Um," she stammers, searching for something to say. "Oh, I know. What did you do to Kate?"

"I didn't do anything to Kate," I tell her truthfully.

"You did so too," she giggles. "When I arrived she was all starry eyed and checking Google to see what the procedure is to nominate you for sainthood. So spill, what did you do to her?"

I snap my case shut and stand, grinning down at her as I tuck her under my arm for the walk to the door. "I've decided to take a few days off and I gave Kate a few days off too, that's all."

"When was the last time you took time off?" she asks, rather astutely, as we go out into the foyer to join Seth.

"When was the last time I took time off?" I ask him as we get into the lift.

"Hmmm, let's see," he muses with a smirk. "I started in the January and you had a day off for Rosie's wedding in the March, so what's that, eight years?"

"You're joking!" Isabella scoffs.

"He's not," I chuckle.

"Eight years without a few days off?" she asks, eyebrows raised and I nod. "So why now?"

"I quite liked the idea of having a few days to get to know my girlfriend better. Any objections?" I ask cheekily as the lift doors open.

She walks ahead, backwards, a smile a mile wide as she speaks, "I have only one class tomorrow and then I've got nowhere to be until Monday too!"

"Well, look at that," I shrug at Seth, "our schedules match for a few days."

"What a coincidence," he scoffs as he holds the door open for Isabella.

"Isn't it?" I chirp back smugly.

"You checked my class schedule, didn't you?" she asks as I slide into the backseat beside her.

"Might have," I shrug.

"Control freak," she mocks, cuffing me on the forearm.

"Ah ah," I scold playfully, "it's clever control freak who might be nominated for sainthood."

"Saint Edward, I think there already is one of those," she giggles as Seth backs the car out of its space. "What would you be patron of?"

"Saint Edward, patron saint of personal assistants who get to go on yachts," I deadpan.

She looks bewildered but Seth perks right up. "Heads up," he says first to get our attention, and then, "You gave her the boat for the weekend? You bastard," he hisses.

"What have I missed?" Isabella asks as the camera flashes start as we drive past the still camped out press outside the building.

"Saint Edward bought a weekend on a private yacht at the hospital benefit auction last month and he's given it to bloody Kate," Seth growls.

"You did?" she asks, wide eyed.

"I wasn't going to use it," I shrug.

"I would've," Seth grouched.

"I need you here right now," I tell him sadly knowing he would've loved to have had a few days off too. "I've already talked to Phil, that's the owner of the boat," I tell Isabella, "and he's agreed to let me lease it for a weekend as soon as our press troubles go away," I tell Seth.

"Saint Edward," he crows, slapping his hand on the steering wheel excitedly, "patron saint of personal assistants and bodyguards. Thanks, boss," he says, grinning with his chin high so I could see it in the rear view mirror.

"There's a catch," I warn.

"There always is," he gripes.

"Tonight, when Jasper and Alice are ready to go home, I want you to take them," I tell him pointedly.

"Okay," he says, drawing out the syllables to show me he didn't get what the catch was.

"There could quite possibly be a lot of traffic at that hour," I hedge, hoping he'd twig fast.

He cocks his head to the side, his eyebrows creasing as he thought on that. When he got what I meant he smiled wide, "Yeah, Thursday night traffic is notoriously bad," he chuckled, "might take me hours to get back from dropping them off."

"It might," I agree with as straight a face as I could muster.

Isabella, who is watching me intently, is quiet for a long while and I wonder what she's thinking.

"You need to work on your subtlety," she whispers out of the blue.

I don't disagree so I say nothing. I just watch the smile on her lips the rest of the way home.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading.**

**Please review. **


	10. Chapter 10

**BPOV**

Edward gave my hand a gentle squeeze as we got to his front door and then I was off. Racing towards my brother who stood waiting for me in the foyer, arms outstretched. Within seconds we were hugging one another and apologising over and over for the things we'd said in his office.

Alice joined us once the initial apologies were over and soon it was all three of us hugging in the foyer.

All the drama our little spat had caused seemed ridiculous as we stood there in someone else's home, having all been driven there despite the fact that we all owned our own vehicles, working out our differences.

"This is some place," Jasper whispered to me before he kissed me one more time on the cheek.

"It sure is," I reply as I drag him with me to the kitchen where I could hear the whistle of a kettle being boiled. "Edward won't show it off because he's shy about it, but if you ask he'll give you the tour."

"I'll go," Alice pipes up excitedly.

"If I have to," Jasper adds and I squeeze his hand just a little.

"Promise me you'll try to like him?" I beg in a whisper as we neared the kitchen. "He's a great guy and I really like him. Try to put out of your head what you've read about him and give him a chance, please?"

"I promise," he said quickly and seemingly easily and I hoped that he would.

Both Edward and Seth were behind the kitchen counter when we got there. Seth was unstacking the dishwasher and Edward was stirring a mug of coffee.

"Are we friends again?" he asked as we three each took a seat at the counter.

"Yeah, we're friends," Jasper deadpanned. "There's nothing to inherit so there's no point ditching her," he shrugged, which earned him a slap on the arm from both Alice and I at the same time.

"Funny but my sister says the complete opposite," Edward laughs as he sets a mug of coffee in front of me. "What can I get you?" he asks both Alice and Jasper, who both love their coffee as much as I do.

"White and one for me and the same as Bella's for Alice, thanks," Jasper replies and Edward sets to work right away.

I can tell that he's nervous. He's twitchy and jumpy and his hands aren't as steady as they usually are. He's also hopping from foot to foot now and then as he waits for the kettle to boil again.

"He makes great coffee," I say as a way to break the tension. "But he tells me he can't cook for shit."

"He's not lying," Seth chuckles.

"Disloyal bastard," Edward jokes with a snarl at Seth who shrugs jovially and returns to his task. "And he's showing off right now," he laughs, "he's never emptied a dishwasher in his life."

Seth doesn't refute the claim he just shrugs as he sets the clean plates into their slots in the drawer. "And you've never taken a day off work mid week so I guess you're showing off too," he snipes good naturedly.

"I guess I am," Edward admits, shocking me just a little bit.

I'd thought he was going to be embarrassed, at the very least unhappy with Seth's comment, but he just straight up admitted it and I found that adorable.

I nudge my brother while both guys are busy and nod towards Edward. Jasper raises his eyes at me and I plead with him with mine.

"Um," he starts off, "this place is pretty amazing. Want to show me around?" he asks cautiously and I can let out the breath I've been holding.

Edward looks to me right away, his eyes searching my face. "Did your dad send him to self defence classes too?" he asks me, totally throwing me.

"Nope," I say, popping the p.

"You gonna sucker punch me as soon as my back's turned?" Edward asks Jasper with a chuckle.

"You done anything that deserves me sucker punching you?" Jasper asks, not quite as jovially as I thought he should.

"Not a thing," Edward swears as he sets two mugs of coffee on the counter in front of my family.

"Then you've got nothing to worry about," Jasper grins over the edge of his cup. "And this is pretty good," he says after taking a sip.

"You need me for anything else, boss?" Seth asks as he sets the last glass back into the overhead cupboard.

"Not until that delivery comes, no," Edward replies.

"Then I'll be downstairs," Seth says. "Nice to meet you both," he says to Jasper and Alice who reply in kind. "I'll see you later, Bella," he says to me and I thank him for all the running around he's done for me that day.

"Want to show me your room?" Alice asks as she drains her cup.

I look to Edward who just winks at me and I can't help but grin. He doesn't know I already told Alice where we spent last night.

"Sure," I tell her, "It's down here," I point towards the hall leading away. "You two play nicely," I say to the two boys.

**EPOV**

"Lead the way," Jasper told me as soon as his sister and Alice disappeared down the hallway.

I didn't want to show him around, I'd much rather just tell him to have at it and look at whatever he liked, but he'd asked.

I took a gulp from my cup and showed him down the opposite hall and into my living room.

"Full HD?" he asks of my television.

"Yeah," I reply awkwardly.

We move beyond the living room and into the library. He looks around and says it was nice and really, what else can you say about a room lined with books?

"There's three guest suites down there," I say, pointing to the hallway where the giggling of the two girls could now be heard coming from.

"What's upstairs?" he asks, looking just as unimpressed about three bedrooms as I felt.

"My office, my bedroom and a couple more empty bedrooms," I shrug.

"Back there?" he asks pointing to the archways on either side of the kitchen.

"Stairs to the ground and lower floors," I tell him.

"It's four floors?" he asks, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah," I mumble as I run a hand through my hair. "The block slopes back from the road. It's deceptive."

"Cool," he says noncommittally. "What's down there then?"

"Games room, bar and all the service rooms on the next floor down and Seth lives right down the bottom," I say with a shrug.

"Why didn't you say?" he laughs. "I don't give a shit about sofas and books, lead the way to the bar."

I have to laugh then too. I'd been being polite when I could really use a drink myself, despite it only being one o'clock in the afternoon. It'd been a hell of a day and had no problem breaking my 'no drinking during the day rule'.

"Name your poison," I tell him when we get down there.

"I'm not driving thanks to Seth so I'll have a beer," he laughs.

"I'll join you because I hardly ever get to drive anywhere these days," I say as I slide his bottle across the bar to him.

"That's gotta suck," he says as he tilts his bottle towards mine in thanks.

"It does!" I all but shout, pleased that someone, finally, saw it the way I did. "A man's supposed to drive. It's part of our genetic makeup. A fast car and an open road. It's what we need to do."

"Amen to that," he says before taking another swig. "When Alice goes off on a Saturday morning for her hair, or a pedicure or whatever it is she does at that salon all bloody day, I take off up the coast road just for something to do."

"Wish I could," I sigh.

"Is that your Beamer in the drive?" he asks, nodding upwards and in the direction of the front of the house.

"Yeah," I admit, "It's sat there for months, neglected."

"Criminal," he hisses.

"Seth takes it out to get serviced and to give it a run now and then but I never can."

"Next time Alice goes to get plucked and polished I'll call you. I'll race you to The Entrance. There's a brilliant pub there that makes a great pie."

I'm stunned. He should hate me for the trouble I've gotten his sister into but here he is inviting me on a jaunt.

"Within the speed limit of course," I laugh.

"That actually makes it more fun," he says matter of factly. "Doesn't matter what car you drive that way. I could drive dad's old beat up truck and you could be in that Beamer and we'd still be on an even playing field."

"So it's more about your driving skills rather than the speed of the machine," I say appreciatively. "I think I'd like that," I tell him.

We're quiet for a bit, sipping from our bottles and it gets awkward again. I decide to bite the bullet.

"I really like your sister and I'm sorry that she's being harassed by the press," I blurt far too fast.

He takes another swig and eyes me carefully. "You hurt her and I'll fucking kill you," he says simply and calmly. "I should've killed Jake but I didn't know what he was about at the time, but I'll make sure I know this time," he adds just as calmly and I believe every word he's said. "That said," he continues as he drains his bottle, "she really likes you too and so far she says you haven't done anything to deserve a beating."

"I won't hurt her," I tell him sincerely.

"Just be sure that you don't. Dad knows how to hide a body," he grins as he begins to pick at the label on his bottle.

"I haven't met him yet and he scares the shit out of me already," I mumble as I get up to get two more bottles.

"He is pretty intimidating," he chuckles. "but he's nothing compared to Alice' dad. I've known him twenty years and he still looks at me like he'd like to skin me."

"How come you're only getting married now?" I ask without thinking.

He doesn't seem offended though, he just shrugs. "The time's right I guess," is his simple answer. "How come you're not married? You got money, your own hair and teeth too by the looks of it," he laughs.

"I'm only thirty-seven," I protest. "And I'm not married because I've never met anyone who made me feel like I wanted to be."

"Not even close?" he asks.

"Not that I know of, no," I shrug.

"Ah, thems the words of a man who doesn't know what love feels like," he laughs.

"I guess so," I shrug. "I thought I was once, in love I mean. I was eight and she was seven."

He laughs heartily then. "You'll know when you're in love, I guarantee it."

"How?" I ask in a way that makes me sound like a pussy.

He squints like he's thinking real hard and then smiles. "An example might help. You a football guy?" he asks and I nod. "Right, so it's Friday night and you've worked sixty hours already that week and you've got two jobs to go over the weekend. It's your one night off, the first chance you've had to kick back. You just want to sit and watch your team and nurse a beer.

"She's there though. Staying over or whatever. And she's worked sixty too but she wants to 'talk'," he says, making the quotes with his fingers. "So you keep one eye on the telly and one ear on whatever it is she's wanting you to talk about and you sit there wishing she'll get bored with the game, and you, and go and find something else to amuse herself with.

"And then she does. She skips off to another room to do whatever it is that's taken her fancy and you're finally alone. Finally relaxing. Finally able to watch Ablett kick a monster goal in peace.

"And within ten minutes you're lonely and wishing she'd come back to talk to you some more. The games lost its appeal, your beer isn't doing the trick and you wonder why in hell you wished she'd bugger off in the first place. That's love," he chuckles.

I muse over his words for a minute and sip the last of my second beer.

"You see Ablett skip out the back of that pack at the ball up and kick that sneaky goal last weekend?" I ask, avoiding the subject of love quite craftily I thought.

"If it wasn't for your bloody mother I'd have been there in person to watch it," he grumbles.

"Ahhh, the charity dinner for the rehab centre," I say sympathetically.

"Good money but I'd much rather have been at the game."

"Working side by side with your woman," I chuckle.

"Yeah," he sighs. "You know its love when you work together, practically live together too and you still want to spend time with her at the end of the week."

"I don't want your sister to work for me, ever," I tell him firmly. "She likes me now because she hasn't seen what an asshole I am at work."

"Eh," he shrugs, "I'm an asshole at work too, Alice deals."

"You think I'm an asshole and you haven't seen me in the office," I throw in, just to see what he'll say in response.

"Eh," he shrugs again, "I was prepared to hate you but any guy who drives a Z4 can't be all bad."

**BPOV**

"This place is fuck awesome," Alice squeals as we dash down the hallway on our way back to the kitchen.

I'm chasing after her and we both skid on our socked feet until we're at the kitchen counter.

"Oh shit," Alice barks as I ram into her from behind.

"It didn't hurt," I tease as I straighten up.

"No," Alice hisses, turning and tugging on my arm to get my attention. "Um, hi. I'm Alice," she says.

"Oh shit," I echo as I look up and see an older woman holding two heavy looking grocery bags on the other side of the counter.

She begins to giggle, thankfully. "Hello Alice, I'm Mrs Davis and you must be Isabella," she says as she dumps the bags onto the counter.

"That's her," Alice chirps before sliding onto a stool. "Are you Eddie's mom?" she asks and I cringe.

"Jesus Alice, shut up," I hiss as I take the stool beside her. "And he hates being called Eddie," I added for good measure.

"I'm not his mother," Mrs Davis chuckles as she begins unpacking the bags. "Although you could be forgiven for thinking that I am. I take care of the house and the boys too."

"Oh cool," Alice says as she pulls an apple out of the bowl just down the counter. "Is he a total neat freak?" she asks and I cringe again.

"Oh he is," the older woman laughs. "Drives him crackers if something is out of place."

"Oh goodie, that'll be fun," Alice says evilly and I give her the stink eye on the sly.

"Have you girls had lunch yet?" she asks and both Alice and I say that we haven't. "Good, you go on down to the bar with the boys and I'll call down when it's ready."

"To the bar?" Alice asks with raised eyebrows. "They're down there somewhere knocking one back and we weren't invited?" she says slyly.

"I think they're bonding, dear," Mrs Davis giggled. "They were talking about football when I passed by."

"Urgh, football," Alice clucked. "We'll never get their attention now."

Just as I was about to ask where we could find the bar a loud ringing began. Mrs Davis picked up what looked a little like a phone off the wall of the kitchen.

"Cullen residence," she answered it and I thought it was just a phone. "I see. Someone will be there shortly, thank you." She pressed a button, let it go and the pressed another. "There's a delivery van in the drive, dear," she said then put the handset back.

"Um, where will we find the bar?" I asked nervously when she'd returned to the counter.

"He's not shown you around? How rude," she scoffed, "you go right through this arch and down the stairs and the bar is at the foot of them, dear," she told me, pointing behind herself.

"Thank you," I tell her and grab Alice by the sleeve before she can say anything else to embarrass either herself, me or Edward.

We found the boys sitting around a small pub style table, beers in hand, laughing their heads off.

"Here they are!" Jasper called as we went inside. "Come and have a drink," he begged.

"How many have you had?" Alice asked with an eye roll.

"Christ woman, this is only my second one. I'm not driving and neither is anyone else, so what's the harm?" he shrugged before getting to his feet and offering his stool to Alice.

"Hey," I said to Edward as he held out his arm for me. He pulled me to his side and squeezed my hip. "We met Mrs Davis," I told him.

"She's a domestic goddess," he chuckled. "Did I hear the gate alarm?" he asked as he too slid off his stool and offered it to me before gathering one from another table and pulling it up to my side before dashing around behind the bar.

"A delivery I think," I tell him as he holds up a beer for my inspection. "That'd be nice, thanks," I tell him.

"Alice?" he asks as he holds up the bottle for her.

"May as well," she shrugs and climbs up onto her stool.

He comes back to the table and cracks the lids off the bottles for us girls. "That's my new sofa being delivered," he says proudly.

"You were serious?" I laugh.

"Deadly serious, that other one had to go," he says as he winks.

"Shouldn't you go and help carry it in then?" Alice asks.

"No need, the driver said he'd bring two guys to help," he said, shaking his head. "Is anyone hungry?" he asks.

"Mrs Davis said she'd call us when lunch was ready," I tell him.

"Ed and I are going to race to The Entrance next weekend," Jasper pipes up with. The statement immediately earns him a scowl and a cuff to the back of his head from his fiancé.

I mouth 'Ed' in Edward's direction and he simply smiles and shrugs.

"What?" Jasper asks Alice as he rubs the back of his head. "You know I stick to the speed limit, it's no fun otherwise."

"I know you do," she agrees, "but you were supposed to go with me next weekend to look at flower arrangements for the wedding."

"Ahh," he says sadly. "I forgot about that. Can we do it another time? Ed doesn't get a lot of time off."

Alice wasn't amused but she conceded jovially enough while we were watching on, but I knew that my brother was going to pay a price for his defection.

We all chatted away until Mrs Davis called us for lunch and then the four of us sat at the kitchen counter munching away on the platter of sandwiches she'd made for us. Seth joined us after a little while and he mopped up what was left.

We moved into the living room after eating and while the two boys watched some football game on Edward's big screen Alice and I chatted and plotted about her wedding.

She was sitting on the floor between Jasper's knees and he was rubbing his thumb up and down along her hairline at the base of her neck.

I longed to have the quiet confidence that Jasper and Alice had in their relationship. The way they easily fell into step with one another, or now even as they sat having different conversations they were both comfortable enough to still be touching one another.

I took my chance to try it out for myself after reaching forwards to look at a headpiece Alice was showing me on the screen of her phone. Once I was done and ready to sit back again I scooted slightly sideways until I felt Edward's thigh up against mine.

I was wondering if he'd noticed the contact when he silently answered the question for me.

He turned, just a little, until he was half side on at the edge of the sofa and as he settled back against the arm of it he draped his left arm along the back rest. Within seconds of him shifting his fingers were tugging on the length of my ponytail. He didn't seem to ever stop his end of the conversation he was having with Jasper, so my crack about him needing to work on his subtlety had been taken to heart.

Every now and then he'd tug a little harder and I'd have to work hard not to suck in a breath and make public what even that small contact was doing to me. And then he got a little bolder.

He let go of my hair and settled his hand at the base of my neck, his thumb rubbing soft circles there and making my heart skip a beat.

And still he never faltered in his conversation.

Alice asked me to look at another picture, this one was of a pair of shoes she was considering for us bridesmaids to wear, and when I'd looked and then sat up straight again Edward had shifted again.

He'd brought his knee up onto the seat, half crossed over his other leg, so that when I sat back against the back of the sofa I was almost sitting up against his chest.

The hand he'd been using on my neck slid downwards until he was caressing the small of my back.

He was driving me nuts and I wanted to believe he didn't realise.

**EPOV**

She was driving me insane!

Every time she leant forwards to look at Alice' phone her jeans gaped a little at the back and I had a good, clear view of the top of her knickers. They were fucking pale pink and lacy!

She'd moved backwards a little and I'd had to move side on to accommodate her and still be able to talk to Jasper past her, but that only made my problems worse. Now her hair, that beautiful, silky, chocolate brown ponytail was within my reach and I couldn't help but touch it.

I wound the end of it around and through my fingers over and over, in a steady rhythm, and struggled to keep my mind on the game playing out on the television and also on Jasper's running commentary as I did it.

Before I knew what I was doing I was tugging on that long tail, pulling it in a cadence that wasn't dissimilar to the way I wanted to pump my hips while I was inside her.

Determined to shake off thoughts like that I put my hand to the base of her neck in an attempt to keep things casual. It didn't work. Her skin was so soft and warm, so smooth too and I couldn't help but rub my thumb against it. I needed the contact with her skin.

She moved forward again and I couldn't fight the desire to look downwards at the lace just one more time but as I raised my eyes Jasper was staring at me pointedly. I was busted and there wasn't a fucking thing I could do or say about it.

I'd had to shift and pull one leg up onto the other to hide my erection and I fought hard not to take a quick look at my watch. Surely Jasper and Alice had somewhere they needed to be I began thinking.

I was enjoying their company but I wanted them to leave so that I could be alone with Isabella. I was glad that they were enjoying themselves, and that they were comfortable in my home as they lounged, but I wanted to molest her now.

Whether Jasper sensed my discomfort or he wanted to be gone before I lost control totally and just took his sister right there on the low coffee table I didn't know and didn't care.

Within minutes of him busting me ogling his sisters ass he was on his feet, pulling Alice to hers and announcing they had dinner plans and needed to leave.

I fought the urge to run to the kitchen and call down to Seth to drive them home. Instead I stuck my game face on and told them it was a shame they had to go.

I excused myself while Isabella said goodbye to our guests and managed to call for Seth without shouting the request for him to hurry through the intercom. To his credit, and my extreme relief, he appeared in under two minutes, the keys to the Mercedes swinging around his fingers.

"All ready?" he asked and Jasper and Alice both agreed that they were. "Remember that the press are still out there so game faces on people," he told them both as he held the front door open for them.

"Thanks for having us," Jasper told me as he shook my hand goodbye. "And for helping us sort out our shit."

"My pleasure, thanks for coming," I tell him sincerely.

"Remember what you promised," he said before joining his fiancé and walking through my front door.

Seth winked at me, or maybe at both of us, as he shut the door behind himself.

"What did you promise?" Isabella asked instantly.

"Do you have supersonic hearing?" I chuckle as I take her hand into mine.

"No, but I'm a woman, we can listen to three conversations at once and still make dinner on time," she grinned.

"Hmmm, resourceful," I murmur as I pull her slowly towards me. "What else can you do?" I ask as she comes flush up against my chest.

"Lots of things," she whispers, her breathing already accelerating.

"Name some," I plead as I lower my lips to the curve of her neck.

"Um," she stammers as her arms go up and around my neck. "I can do stuff," she moans deliciously.

"Stuff," I chuckle against her ear and feel her shiver. "Very eloquent," I tease before suckling the lobe into my mouth.

"Where's Mrs Davis?" she asks, attempting to dislodge me by pulling on my hair.

Little does she know that that won't work. I love it when she does that and instead of making me stop it only makes me suck harder.

"I'm serious," she protests, "I'll die if she sees us like this."

"I sent her home," I breathe into her ear and feel her relax. Unfortunately when she relaxes so does her grip on my hair. "She'll be back later, in time to make us dinner. There's nobody here but us, finally," I groan against the side of her neck. She pulls away then and I worry that it's in fear. It's not because she's smiling as I tilt her chin up, but her eyes seem wary. "What's wrong?" I ask, "I'm going too fast, aren't I?" I sigh as I step away.

"No," she says firmly as she slides her hand into mine at my side. "I just don't want pictures of us doing this in the paper tomorrow," she whispers.

"Come with me," I tell her, turning her slightly and pointing to the door.

"Outside? Are you mad?" she shrieks and tries to pull her hand out of mine.

I take hers again and squeeze it gently. "Do you trust me, Isabella?" I ask seriously.

She cocks her head to one side and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth for a second and then she's nodding and I can breathe again. "I do trust you," she whispers.

"Then come with me, please?"

She nods again and lets me lead her out the door. Once we're by the stairs I tell her to look back towards the street. I wait, as patiently as possible, for her to realise what it is she's seeing.

"They can't see us here," she grins. "The angles all wrong."

"Exactly," I tell her. "They can only see us if we're at the very front of the house, in the garage on the ground floor, that last guest bedroom on this level and if we're in the theatre with the drapes open, which defeats the purpose of having block-out blinds," I chuckle.

She's turning then, looking at the properties to either side but I know she won't find anywhere for anyone to see into any other rooms because I bought this land because of its superior position and built the house so that nobody would ever be able to see down into my home.

"The pool?" she asks as she turns back to me.

"Ahh, besides the very back corner of the backyard where it's at its lowest that's probably the only other place we're vulnerable on the property," I tell her. "So unless you decide to go skinny dipping the only pictures anyone would get of you out there would be you in your bathing suit."

"Not likely," she scoffs. "I didn't hear Mrs Davis leave," she says quietly, still not totally convinced.

"You wouldn't have. You were in the bathroom at the time," I tell her.

"We're alone," she says probably to herself but I hear her just fine.

"We're totally alone," I agree. "Until Seth comes back anyway."

She's pulling on my hand then, attempting to drag me back inside and I can't help but chuckle. Once we're back through the door she kicks it shut and throws herself at me. I catch her about the waist and I've got my tongue in her mouth before another heartbeat passes.

As soon as I begin to lose myself in her lips and tongue she's pulling away again and I can't help the disappointed groan that escapes me as she does.

"You don't have CCTV here do you?" she asks, her eyes hooded and her lips already reddening from my assault on them.

"No CCTV in the house itself. No audio recording devices in the house itself. I'll close every door, every curtain, every blind and we can do it silently with our clothes on if you want but please, please let me have you now," I beg, frustrated as hell.

"Oh god," she groans, reaching up and dragging my mouth back to hers. "That's so fucking sexy," she moans when I let her lips go long enough to catch my breath.

"The begging?" I ask as quickly as I can before I plunge my tongue back into her mouth.

"No. The lengths you'd go to," she rushes before pushing me backwards so I'm hard up against the front door.

"Anything," I hiss as she nips at my throat with her teeth.

"In your office..." she trails off before her lips are on mine again.

"No, in my bed," I protest the instant I can.

"No," she says again as she bites her way down the outside of my ear to my throat. "Before, in your office," she hisses. "You said you wanted to take your time."

"I'm stupid," I rasp out between my gritted teeth as she rakes hers across my chin.

"You wanted to go slow," she hisses and it's not a question.

"I did before," I admit before I grab hold of her shoulders and push, then pull her until it's her back up against my front door. I lick her lips, nibble on the bottom on for a second and then pull away so I can look into her eyes. "If you need to go slow I will," I tell her firmly.

Her reply is fast, "We can go slow the second time."

"You're fucking perfect," I hiss against her lips. "Jump," I insist and she does.

I catch her as her legs go around my waist. I lift her a little so that I can attack her now swollen lips while I walk us to the foot of the stairs. I take one hand off her ass so I can use it to guide us using the handrail but I never take my lips from hers as we go up.

Its slow going, not because she's heavy, she isn't. It's slow because every few steps she bites me and I nearly lose my shit.

Her fingers are digging into my scalp, her heels are locked around my waist and she's right there, right ...there.

I mentally curse that my bedroom is one floor up but as we get to the top of the stairs she moans right in my mouth and I get a second wind.

I get us to the foot of my bed, withdraw my lips long enough to throw her onto it and the instant I'm on top of her I plunge my tongue back into her mouth.

She rolls us, so she's on top of me and I can't fight the compulsion to buck my hips upwards. I'm so hard it's painful as my erection pushes against the seam of her jeans.

There's a loud pop as she releases my lips and then she's sitting atop me and lifting her t-shirt over her head, exposing the matching pale pink bra that I already know is the other half of the set.

"Fuck," I moan as she stretches. "You're fucking perfect," I tell her again as I sit up.

I bury my lips between her still covered breasts and she throws her head back and moans long and low.

Her fingers are in my hair again, my teeth are pulling at the lacy edge of her bra cups and my mind and body are both totally out of control.

She leans backwards, denying my mouth more of her flesh, and pushes me so I'm lying down again. Her fingers make quick work of my cufflinks and I hear them plink, plonk onto my bedside table one after the other. She's back within seconds and undoing the buttons deftly. She spreads the two halves of my button down and then her lips are kissing down my stomach.

"Do you like that?" she asks as she covers one nipple with her lips and suckles gently.

"I love it," I admit as I buck upwards.

She switches and takes my other nipple into her mouth and I can't help but hiss as her fingernails rake across the other.

"Do you like that?" she asks again.

"You're driving me crazy," I confess as her mouth travels lower down my abs.

"You're ticklish," she whispers as she rolls her tongue around my navel.

"Are you?" I ask as I grab her by both wrists and pull her until she's hovering above me, her breasts only just out of reach of my mouth.

"Find out for yourself," she says with a grin and I feel myself rise a little more at the challenge.

I flip us, quickly, and she's pinned beneath me. I stare down at her ripe lips and the erratic rise and fall of her chest as she pants. "You're so beautiful," I tell her reverently before kissing her more gently.

With her wrists still in my hands I push her arms higher on the bed effectively making her my captive as I kiss down her throat, between her breasts and down to her belly button.

I nibble and lick, suck and tease until her hips are bucking upwards wildly.

She's so responsive and verbal. She moans and groans, whimpers and hisses and I find that I love that about her.

**BPOV**

He's fucking stunning. He called me beautiful, which made my heart skip a beat, but he was stunning. Under the staid business shirt he'd been hiding abs you could bounce a coin off and a sprinkling of coppery hair on his chest that made me want to drool.

His nipples had puckered hard in my mouth and he'd bucked and moaned as I touched him.

I loved that he was verbal. I loved that he was honest and I loved that he was comfortable enough that he could tell me what he liked.

I fought not to giggle as he tongued my navel but he relented quickly and let me go. I combed my fingers through his hair as he slid his hands behind me to release the clasp on my bra.

Thankfully I'd put a matching set on that morning.

I felt the straps give way and then his hands were under the cups, his thumbs rubbing just under the wires, his eyes on mine intently.

"Tell me this is okay," he croaked, his eyes boring into mine.

"Please," I groan hoarsely, my turn to beg.

With my permission given he didn't balk. He hooked his thumbs under the wires and pulled the bra free of my chest. He sucked in a breath hard and then he pulled each strap off my arms before throwing it to the floor by the side of the bed.

"Jesus Christ," he swore as he lowered his mouth to me.

I echoed his words as he took first one nipple then the other into his mouth in turns. His beautiful hands cupped me gently as he suckled. I squirmed beneath him, loving the attention but desperate for more, something more to rid me of the ache between my legs.

I pulled his shirt off over his head, waited as he let go of me with each hand in turn so I could take it down off his arms and then we were both bare from the waist up.

He lavished my breasts relentlessly until I was crying out with each gentle nip of his teeth.

He slid one hand down my waist until it was beneath me and then he cupped my ass with it and pulled me upwards into his erection. His lips never missed a beat as he sucked and licked at my breast and soon we were bucking against one another in a perfect rendition of what was to come.

It was only our pants between us. He ground his hips into me, the thickness of him hitting me right where I needed it to and I couldn't help but whimper as he sped his pace. A climax was within my reach but somehow still just out of my grasp.

The tugging at my breast, his relentless squeezing and releasing of his fingers under my ass and the grinding of his hardness against me had me standing on the edge and unable to jump.

"More," I begged, tugging on his hair. "I need you," I told him harshly as I pulled hard and made him look me in the eye.

"You need me," he groaned, half a question and half a statement. "God I need you, Isabella," he growled before kissing me again.

I wanted to protest. I wanted him to give me more immediately. I needed the release. I needed his release. I wanted to feel more of him and I wanted him to give that to me now!

But this kiss was different. It was furious and possessive and he was breathing so much more heavily as he brought his hand up between us and cupped me over my jeans.

I cried into his mouth and he sucked it down hungrily as the heel of his hand pushed hard up against my clit. It was too much and not enough all at once. I clawed at the flesh of his back and begged him to make me come.

He grinned down at me then. Teeth gleaming and his eyes hooded but fierce. "When I'm inside you," he said severely and that one statement nearly tipped me over right there.

We were a seething, writing mass of arms and legs then. Each of us desperate to unclothe the other as quickly as possible. He undid my jeans while I pulled the belt free of his slacks. I wriggled to get mine off my hips while he sat back on his heels to free himself of his, at least to his knees.

He backed off the edge of the bed to stand, kicked off his shoes and socks before losing his pants while I wriggled and grunted trying to pull mine from my feet. I heard the snap of elastic and halted immediately to watch his erection spring free of his boxer briefs.

He eyed my knickers appreciatively, licked his lips just once, and then shoved my hands away from them so he could slip them down my legs himself.

"Fuck me," he growled as I was bared for his eyes. "If I didn't need you so fucking badly I'd lick and suck on you until you passed out," he hissed as he crawled back up my body. "But I'm so fucking desperate for you I'd never last through it."

"Yesss," I managed to get out past lips that ached to taste him too. "Later," I tell him and hope he understands what I mean. There'd be time enough later to take our time tasting.

"Later," he agrees as he reaches past me towards his bedside table. I hear it open and then the unmistakable crinkle of foil.

I thank my lucky stars that he's thought of protection because I hadn't and I watch, trembling with need, as he rolls the condom down his length. He fists himself just once and I close my eyes at the thought of the size of him filling me.

His lips are at my ear then and he's calmer, gentler as he whispers to me softly. "I want you so badly but I can stop, say the word and I'll stop."

"I want you," I say firmly. "Don't stop."

**EPOV**

She was so beautiful and I wanted her. I'd have been crushed had she said to stop, but I would've stopped. So when she said she wanted me too I crushed my lips to hers and covered her body with mine.

She parted her legs and I took that to mean she was ready for me.

I wished I had the self control to touch her first. To explore her gently first and take my time to make her wet and wanting, but I didn't.

As it was I was going to embarrass myself stamina wise.

It had been years for me and although I had no idea how long it had been for her I hoped I'd still be able to help her to climax seeing as I'd demanded she wait until I was inside her.

I needn't have worried as it turned out.

Her warmth engulfed me as I slid very slowly, and very carefully, into her wetness. And god she was wet. The condom was lubricated but I slid home so easily I knew that a lot of it was her.

"Oh Christ," I muttered against her temple as her walls clamped on me. "Oh Isabella," I crooned as she lifted her hips and urged me to move.

I went as slowly as I could but she whined and whimpered, clawed at me and begged me to make her come and I couldn't help but pound into her with a ferocious abandon then.

She wrapped her legs around my back, pulled my mouth to hers and suckled my tongue as we moved.

I threaded my fingers into her hair and held her tightly, my eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to stifle the orgasm I knew was going to swamp me too quickly.

The pace was erratic at best; our desperation intense, and when she withdrew her tongue from my mouth and screamed through her release I let myself fall with her.

She whispered my name over and over and over as she spasmed around me. I cradled her head in my hands and whispered hers as I spilled inside her. We rocked more gently as we rode, crested and followed the waves of pleasure to their end.

I kissed her softly. She relaxed her legs. She hummed into my mouth as I let my weight collapse onto her chest. I held her to me and promised to make her happy. She stroked my back and promised me the same.

Withdrawing from within her made her hiss. "Did I hurt you?" I asked, running my fingers over her chin to bring her eyes to mine.

"No," she smiled. "I just miss you already."

"Oh, my beautiful girl," I crooned against her temple.

I kissed her softly then reluctantly rolled to my side and removed the condom carefully. I retrieved its packet from the floor beside the bed and went into my bathroom to clean up. I heard the toilet flush and the water come on in what I now considered her bathroom on the other side of the room.

I pulled the comforter and top sheet back on the bed, climbed in and closed my eyes to replay what we'd just done while I waited for her to come back to me.

I hadn't lied. She was perfect. Her body was sublime but it was her intensity and passion that I found so magnificent.

She slid into the bed beside me silently and crawled across until she was lying half against my chest, her arm slung across me at my hip.

"That was amazing," she whispered before kissing my bicep.

I lowered my arm until I was holding her and then kissed the top of her head. "It was," I agreed. "Short but amazing."

"I like that it was short," she whispers.

"Can't say I've ever heard that before," I chuckle.

"It's true," she insists. "No better compliment than a man who can't control himself for wanting you as badly as you want him."

"I wanted you so, so badly," I say. "Give me a minute and I'll want you just as badly again."

"How long until Seth comes back?" she asks, craning her neck to see the clock beside the bed. "It's five already."

"If he knows what's good for him he'll be another hour at least," I chuckle as I pull her up so she's lying on my chest fully.

"Maybe we _should_ put a bell around his neck," she giggles as she scratches my stubble with her nails.

"I'll hang a sock on the front door," I chuckle, pushing the loose strands of hair back off her face.

"What would you do with another hour?" she asks cheekily.

I buck my hips and watch her face as my returning erection nudges against her. "I have a few ideas," I smirk.

"Again?" she asks, eyebrows raised.

"Again," I confirm before I pull her mouth to mine.

**BPOV**

I felt self conscious as I dressed. We'd heard Seth come back, and Mrs Davis come in not long after him, and knew that we couldn't hide out upstairs forever. We'd have to face them at some point.

I sat beside Edward on the end of his bed, both of us pulling our socks back on.

"Will they say anything, do you think?" I ask quietly.

"I have no idea," he sighs before running a hand through his hair.

"Are you nervous?" I ask, knowing he was because the hair thing was a dead giveaway.

He slips on his shoes, waits for me to do the same, and then turns to face me. He pulls my hand to his lips and kisses it softly. "I'm not nervous. I'm not ashamed. I'm not embarrassed and I'm not sorry," he grins.

"Are you worried then? About what they'll think?" I ask, knowing he was fidgeting and rubbing his hair for a reason.

"I don't care what they think," he says in a rush. "No, that's not true; I do care what they think. Seth's like a brother and Mrs Davis is like having a mom on hand, so their opinions matter, but I'm not worried about what they'll think because you're wonderful."

"Then what's wrong?" I ask, pulling his hand down from his head.

"I don't know what to do," he says quietly.

"About what?" I ask, not knowing what he meant.

"I don't know what to do _now_," he says quietly.

"It's pretty simple," I say jovially, wanting to lighten his burden because there really didn't need to be one, not as far as I felt anyway, not now that I knew what he was feeling about what we'd just done. "We'll go downstairs and have a meal. You don't need to do anything in particular. You just be yourself and I will too."

"I felt so cocky this afternoon, telling Seth to stay away from here longer," he sighs. "But now..."

"Now you're wondering if he's judging you for your choices," I finish.

"Maybe."

"You don't have women here, do you?" I ask. I didn't really need to know the answer because I thought I knew that he wasn't into meaningless sex or casual one night stands, but it would be nice to have it confirmed.

"I never have," he says.

"Never?" I ask, incredulous. "You've never had a woman in this bed?"

"Never," he confirms.

"But you've lived here eight years."

"I've had sex," he says a little defensively, "just not here."

"Did you just have _sex_?" I ask, a plan on how to break him from his funk forming in my head.

He looks at me a long moment and then a gentle smile forms on his lips before he kisses me softly. "No, Isabella, I didn't just have _sex_. What we just did wasn't _sex_."

"I didn't think so either," I whisper between us. "So this isn't casual for us. This isn't a seedy, dirty little thing that we need to be ashamed of or hide from anyone. Is it?"

"Definitely not," he says firmly. "This might seem fast to others but not to me. It's perfect. You're perfect. You're what I need, what I want."

"I feel the same," I admit, kissing him just as softly as he'd kissed me. "So we'll go downstairs and have a nice meal and then we'll go and test out the new sofa you had delivered."

"It's red," he whispers against my lips. "Like the one at your apartment."

"You don't have poodle pyjamas do you?" I giggle.

"Not a chance," he laughs as he stands, pulling me to my feet with him. "And you won't be needing your woolly sheep ones either."

"You're so beautiful when you smile," I say without thinking.

"You're beautiful always," he says, not skipping a beat. "Come on, I'm starving."

"I'm not surprised," I giggle.

**EPOV**

She'd diffused my anxiety expertly. I wanted to thank her but that meant admitting I'd been anxious in the first place and I didn't want to do that. My ego wouldn't let me.

Plus I was still feeling high from making love to her and didn't want that feeling to go away.

We wandered downstairs hand in hand and met both Seth and Mrs Davis in the kitchen.

"Jasper and Alice get home alright?" I asked while pulling up a stool to the counter.

"No issues," Seth told me, "But the traffic was just awful coming back," he chuckled.

"As predicted," I answer, unable to keep the serious look on my face for long.

"It was awful for me too," Mrs Davis says as she pulls a deliciously smelling tray from the oven. "I got stuck behind a woman doing twenty in a sixty zone," she griped, totally unaware that she'd inadvertently given me several very pleasurable hours by her absence.

"That smells amazing," Isabella chips in after cuffing me on the arm as a warning not to laugh.

"Do you like paella, dear?"

"I've never had it but it looks and smells delicious."

"It's one of Edward's favourites," Mrs Davis says proudly.

"You'll have to teach me then," Isabella says.

Mrs Davis looks to me and then back to Isabella and then back to me. "You like to cook?" she asks and Isabella nods quickly. "Have you ever burnt a kitchen down?" she asks.

I snort and get a pair of stainless steel tongs pointed at me along with an evil eyebrow raise from my housekeeper for my efforts.

"I've never even come close to burning a kitchen down," Isabella laughs.

"Then I'd like to teach you how to make this," Mrs Davis laughs. "The table's all set. You two should go on in and I'll bring this in shortly," she tells us.

Again with the dining room table I think as I take Isabella's hand and lead her out of the kitchen. I expected to see four places but there were only two. There were also candles, crystal glasses and the good silverware on the table.

The small bowl filled with the heads of white roses that looked exactly the same variety as the ones that lined the driveway was also a surprise.

I ushered Isabella to her seat and then sat adjacent to her.

Seth was the first to come in. He set a metal trivet on the table and a bottle of white by my side. "I'm going to lock up and head out to see my sister for a bit. You need anything from me before I go?" he asks.

I want to laugh but I can't. Instead I tell him I don't need anything and tell him thank you for dropping Jasper and Alice home earlier. He wishes us a good night and then he leaves. But not before winking at me as he goes through the door.

Mrs Davis brings in the paella dish and sets it on the trivet and rushes out again saying she'll bring in the bread and salad in a moment.

I pour us out a glass of wine each and try hard to keep my amusement to myself. Isabella is turning the paella pan round and round, pointing out all the different elements of the dish excitedly.

"You like seafood then?" I ask.

"I love it. My dad loves to go fishing so I was always looking for ways to serve it differently. He'd love this," she says appreciatively.

"You and your brother talk about your dad a lot, but you don't talk about your mother," I say carefully, noting the scowl that crosses her face before she has time to smooth it out again.

"My mother left us when I was five," she says matter of factly. "None of us ever heard from her again and I like it like that."

From her tone, the directness of the statement and the lack of tears in her eyes I believe her. I'm also smart enough to know that that was an end to that line of questioning.

Mrs Davis comes back in and sets a bowl of salad and a basket of warm bread sticks on the table and then asks if we'll need anything else.

"I think we're all set," I tell her. "Thank you for this, it looks lovely."

"You're most welcome," she says with her usual soft smile. "I've just put your sweets in the oven. The timer will let you know when it's ready. I know its short notice but would you mind if I leave now? I promised I'd be home in time to watch the football."

"Of course I don't mind. You go, we'll be fine. Enjoy the game," I tell her, again trying to stifle my amusement.

"Thank you so much for this," Isabella says sweetly.

"You're most welcome dear. I hope you enjoy it. I'll see you tomorrow Edward, Bella," she says primly before leaving the room.

"Help yourself," I tell Isabella, nodding to the serving spoons lying beside the paella pan.

"I'm so hungry," she says as she scoops rice and prawns and mussels onto her plate.

"Me too," I agree with a smug grin.

"That smile suits you," she says cheekily before biting into one of the bread sticks.

"That blush suits you," I counter as I pile salad onto my plate.

She munches away on the seafood for a bit and then sets her fork on the edge of her plate. "Does Seth have a sister?" she asks out of the blue and I choke a little on a piece of tomato.

"Yes, he does," I laugh once I've dislodged it. "Her name's Leah and she's married to a chiropractor. They live in Germany," I laugh. "And before you ask, Mrs Davis lives alone and hates football."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading. **

**Please review. **


	11. Chapter 11

**BPOV**

"This is so squishy," I squeal as I wiggle my bottom on the new sofa.

"Squishy," he chuckles as he towers over me, waiting for me to find a spot before joining me.

"Yeah, it's squishy," I tell him as I tug on his hand.

"Oh it is," he says, surprised, as he plonks himself down on it and wiggles his ass too. "What was that other one made of, cement?" he chuckles as he runs his hand over the velveteen arm of the chaise.

"Compared to this it was," I agree. "And look," I say excitedly as I stretch out my legs, "I can lay full out on this one."

"Mmm, you can," he hums as he runs his hand up and down my calf. "I wonder if we'll both fit?" he asks, grinning evilly.

"No idea," I reply coyly. I pat the spot beside me and he lies down facing me. "Look at that, we fit," I giggle.

"You might," he laughs, "my legs are hanging off the end. But it's an improvement on the old one."

"You sit up and I'll lie in your lap then," I offer, rather magnanimously I thought.

He scoots up to sitting and then drags himself so that he's reclining against the back of the sofa, his arms draped over the back edge and down one armrest. I wait til he's stopped wriggling and then I climb up until I'm in his lap, his thighs on either side of my ribs, my head under his chin.

"Mmm," he hums, "this is nice. You choose," he says as he slides the remote control down my chest.

I start pushing buttons and this time the actual television does come on. I flick through a few channels and settle on the tail end of a movie I'd seen the beginning of a few weeks before.

"Is this okay?" I ask, offering him the remote control back if it wasn't.

"Hmm mmm," he hums into my hair, ignoring the remote, "this is perfect."

"I meant the movie," I giggle.

"What movie?" he asks before blowing warm air into my ear.

"The one on the screen."

"What screen?"

"The big one up there on the wall with the crack running right down the middle of the glass," I say.

"Your hair smells so good," he whispered, totally ignoring what I'd said. His arms came down from their perches to circle my waist as he buried his nose in my hair.

"I use beetle dung as conditioner," I said as seriously as I could.

"Your skins so soft," he murmured as his fingers inched under my woolly sheep pyjama top to rub soft circles on my belly.

"I buy my soap from a dragon slayer in Madagascar," I tell him.

"I think I know that guy," he chuckled right before he began to tickle me mercilessly. "I buy unicorn horn from his brother to wash my elephant in," he laughs.

"Hey!" I shout as I try to evade his fingers uselessly.

He's out from under me in a heartbeat. I'm under him and he's got me pinned before I know how he's done it.

"You think you're the only one who can multitask?" he laughs before lowering his lips to mine briefly.

"Oh I know you can multitask," I purr, thinking back on how he'd been able to use one hand to massage one boob whilst licking my clit _and_ let me watch him masturbate himself all at the same time.

He's quiet for a moment and I wonder if he's thinking about the same things I am. He ducks his head to kiss me softly and as he retreats I can see he's switched to serious mode.

"Tomorrow's Friday," he says quietly and I nod that I know it is. "You have classes," he says and I agree that I do. "What time do you finish?"

"Midday."

"I have some work to do in the morning but I'd like to pick you up when you're done and take you to lunch," he says too seriously for me to understand what the problem with that might be.

"Lunch would be nice," I reply.

"The press will find us. Probably follow us," he says solemnly.

"Probably," I agree.

"We could hide here," he whispers.

"We shouldn't have to," I counter quietly.

"I don't think I want to," he says firmly, still whispering.

"I don't either."

"They'll print the photos and make up a story to go with it if we're seen out together."

"They'll print photos and make shit up even if we're not."

"They will," he sighs sadly as he lowers his forehead to mine.

"So we'll go out to lunch. In public. Together. They'll print what they want and we won't care."

"It might set whatever plans Tanya has into motion if we do," he warns.

"And it might not."

"It might make it all worse."

"And it might not."

"Will you come to dinner at my parents house tomorrow night?" he asks out of the blue.

"Yes," I say easily.

"I usually go to a club after dinner most Fridays. It's casual, just a few friends I've known since college. I don't stay late. I don't drink til I'm drunk. They're nice people," he trails off.

"Ask me," I beg.

"Will you come to the club after dinner and meet my friends?" he asks in a whisper that sounds just a little bit anxious.

"I'd love to," I reply softly. "I usually go to brunch with Alice and Jasper on a Sunday morning if there aren't any catering jobs on. It's casual, just us and another couple who are in their bridal party. We don't stay long. We don't drink at all. They're nice people," I say, selling my outing as he'd sold his to me.

"Ask me," he whispers against my lips.

"Will you come to brunch on Sunday and meet my friends?" I ask before kissing him softly.

"I'd love to," he says smiling a little. "I have to fly to Melbourne on Wednesday evening. I was supposed to go Tuesday night but changed it because you have no classes on Thursdays. Come with me? I have just one meeting early Thursday morning and then we can have the whole rest of the day to explore."

"You changed your schedule because I have the day off on Thursdays?" I asked, incredulous.

"I can change it back if you don't want to go," he says hastily. "I know you have assignments and things to do so I understand if you can't take off for a whole day. Oh, and you've got the books to do for Jasper too. Shit," he hissed, sitting back on his haunches and running a hand through his hair nervously. "I didn't really think this through. I'm organising your life aren't i? I'm so sorry. Shit."

"Hey," I say softly, reaching for his arm and pulling his hand down out of his hair. "You've gotta stop doing that," I warn, nodding to where he'd been pulling at his hair. "My last class on Wednesday finishes at three. Is that enough time for us to get to the airport?" I ask.

His eyes light up at the prospect that I might say yes and then he's nodding furiously. "Kate knows to book something after business hours, yes."

"And we'd be back Thursday night?" I ask.

"She knows not to book any flight later than six in the evening, yes."

"I can do Jasper's books after class on Friday," I muse.

"Would you please do Jasper's books after class on Friday, Isabella?" he asks excitedly.

"What will we do in Melbourne all day Thursday?" I ask, enjoying his agony just a tiny little bit.

"Anything you want," he promises. "Shopping or we can have lunch somewhere flash. We can wander around the city if you want. Go to the casino. See a movie. I'm sure there are matinees if you want to go to the theatre. We'll go up the Eureka Tower or on the big ferris wheel thingy, if it's working."

He looked giddy. Like an eight year old who's begging to be taken to Disneyland and thinks his parents are about ready to cave.

I was ready to cave.

"I'll go if you take me on a tram," I tell him, grinning.

"That's it?" he asks. "You just want to go on a tram?" he laughs as I nod. "I tell you I'll take you to the casino or shopping and you just want to go on a tram?"

"I've never been on one," I shrug.

"Seth and Cameron would have to trail us if we use public transport," he warns.

"Both of them?" I ask, eyebrows raised. "Is that really necessary?"

"You won't even notice they're there," he tells me firmly. "And yes, it's necessary. For now anyway."

"Alright," I tell him. "You promise to take me on a tram and I'll go to Melbourne with you on Wednesday."

"Fucking perfect," he grins before lowering himself back to me on the sofa. "That's our calendars sorted," he snorts as he pulls me to him so that I'm half lying across his chest again. "Now I just have to convince you to stay here until then," he mumbles but I hear him.

**EPOV**

I was so eager to get her back into my bed that I carried her bodily from the sitting room to it. She kicked and squealed, pummeled my back and begged me to set her down the whole way but I wasn't to be deterred.

She was mine now and I told her so.

It wasn't even ten but I was ready for bed. Not sleep, but bed.

She crawled beneath the covers still in her pyjamas after we'd brushed our teeth side by side in my bathroom but they didn't stay on her body long.

To that end my sleep pants didn't stay on my body long either.

We were skin to skin quickly. I was languid as I loved her for the third time that day. I was exhausted when we were done but coherent enough to pull her to me and thank her for the most wonderful of days before I let sleep take me over.

* * *

I wake wrapped around her, my cock pressed hard up against her ass with her pushing backwards almost mindlessly.

I hum against her shoulder where she's tucked under me and whisper that the alarm will go off in exactly twenty five minutes.

"Call in sick," she mumbles adorably and I laugh before kissing her on the shoulder just once and untangling myself from her.

"I'm not going in today," I remind her as I slowly drag my aching carcass from the warmth of her body and the bed.

I do my business quickly in the bathroom and slide back under the covers quietly. I snake my arm back over her hip and cup her breast softly.

She squeaks at the coldness of my freshly washed hands but doesn't bat me away.

"Are you sore?" I ask softly against her shoulder. She shakes her head but doesn't make a sound.

I'm about to let go and let her enjoy the last bit of sleep she can find before we're forced to get moving for the day when she rolls over. Her eyes are still closed and her hair is everywhere but she's lucid enough to know what she wants.

Lucky bastard that I am it appeared to be me.

She shoved me until I was on my back and then she climbs up onto my thighs, tugging the sheets away from us as she goes. Her nipples are puckered and I wonder if its the cold or lust that's done it.

I don't get time to muse on that because as soon as she's settled above me she takes me in hand.

"Fucking hell," I manage to snarl as she fists me tightly. "Do you always wake up horny?" I chuckle as she begins to stroke me.

"Yeah," she mumbles, eyes still closed.

I reach for her breasts and run my fingertips over the nipples. She moans appreciatively and I attempt to sit up a little so I can kiss them good morning but she's not having that.

"Let me do this," she hisses and I lie back down.

Of course I let her! Who wouldn't?

She let me go just long enough to lick her palm before curling her fingers around me again. I couldn't help pushing my hips upwards at the top of each stroke. The sight of her there, perched on my thighs, her legs spread and her sex glistening with need as she worked me over nearly had me embarrassing myself for a second time in twenty four hours.

When she used her free hand to pinch her own nipple I nearly lost it but it was when she slid that hand down her belly and pinched her clit that I knew I was in trouble.

"Oh god," I hissed, the heat and tension in my body building as I watched and felt pleasure. "Slow down," I begged but she ignored me.

"Do you like that?" she panted, eyes still firmly closed.

"I fucking love it," I growl, desperate to throw her down and take her. "Let me love you," I beg through gritted teeth as she formed a tighter ring with her fingers and increased the speed of her stroke.

"When you can't take any more," she pants and it's me who has to squeeze my eyes shut then.

"You're killing me," I warn though if I died right then I'd go a happy man.

I open my eyes to see her staring down at me hotly. Her little pink tongue wet her lips and I wanted it in my mouth. "When you can't take any more," she instructed and I found myself nodding my agreement even though I hated the idea of getting that close without being inside her.

"Slow down," I warn again but I know it's futile.

Her eyes are huge now. She's staring down at me intently, that tongue on her lips teasing me as much as her hands were. I look downwards and watch her fingers disappear into her own folds and I can't help but buck wildly after that.

"When you can't take any more you can taste them," she purrs and I'm at my limit.

"Enough!" I roar as I grip her wrists roughly. "Give them to me," I demand as I pull her fingers away from her sex and bring them to my mouth. I lick and suck them ferociously until my mouth is filled with the taste of her that I still remembered from the night before. I look up and she's still there across my thighs but now she's wide eyed and grinning smugly down at me. "Where the fuck have you been?" I ask as I yank her hard so that she falls sideways.

I push on her shoulder until she's face first on the mattress but with one shoulder off it, her legs spread and one hip right there for me to grip. I dig my fingers into that hip and hold her there while I retrieve another condom from beside the bed. I roll it on quickly, tugging the tip to get rid of the air pocket. I throw the packet to the floor and then I settle myself between her legs.

"Where the fuck have you been?" I demand again as I hook her topmost leg over my hip. I plunge myself into her in one stroke, unable to temper the fiery lust that's coursing through my system. "Where the fuck have you been Isabella?" I bellow as I seat myself fully inside her.

"Waiting for you," she screams as we're joined. "I've been waiting for you," she pants as I begin to rock into and out of her.

"Yeah," I agree as I gyrate my hips and hit that sweet, sweet spot inside her I'd found the day before. "I've been waiting for you too," I tell her as I pull her leg higher and look down to where we're joined. "Christ," I snarl as I watch myself disappear between her folds.

"So good baby," she's whimpering and my chest puffs out a little at the endearment.

"I won't last," I warn when she starts to roll over a little more making me go deeper still.

"Touch me, take me with you," she demands through gritted teeth.

I feel the war that's fighting inside me. I want to come so badly but I want her to go with me when I do. I need to feel her come. I need to feel her walls clamp down and the delicious shiver that overcomes her delectable body when her orgasm ignites.

I reach beneath her and press the tip of my index finger hard onto her clit and she bucks, bucks hard and lets out a groan that rumbles the mattress beneath us.

"Come with me," I beg, rubbing that little nub a little harder.

"Right there, right there," she's whimpering and I know she's as close as I am then.

I speed up, the loud smacking of my hips against her ass echoing around the room in time with my grunts. I pinch her clit, rolling it between my fingers and feel her clamp down hard around my cock.

"Come with me," she's begging now and I'm undone.

I'm coming and coming, the heat and intense pleasure forcing its way through my body and out into hers in hot spurts as I cry out her name. She's spasming around me, milking me as she cries out my name, clutching at my forearm where I've got her pinned.

Our hips are still rolling, our breathing is ragged and our bodies are covered in a thin film of sweat as we come together.

Finally spent I collapse onto her back, rolling with her until her backs hard up against my chest with me still inside her.

"So good," I whisper into her shoulder as I kiss it. "You feel so, so good."

She's panting hard still so I don't wait for a response. If she's halfway as knackered as I am its no wonder she's speechless I think to myself smugly.

"Good morning," she finally whispers.

"Best ever morning," I correct her before rolling away to pull off the condom.

As I'm getting out of the bed the alarm starts and I hear her chuckle softly. "Better than a wakeup call from Seth?" she asks and I can't help but laugh.

"If you wake me up like that every morning I can sack him and use his wages to employ a masseuse," I chuckle as I roll my neck.

"Can I use the masseuse too?" she giggles as she gets out of her side of the bed.

"Not if it's a guy," I joke. Sort of.

"Then Seth stays," she laughs as she throws her pillow at me. "Shower or coffee first?" she asks.

"Shower," I grunt, "definitely a shower."

"Are you sore?" she asks as she slips her pyjama pants back on.

"Out of practice," I tell her with a wink.

"Good," she says but I don't think she's joking.

If she feels even a tiny little bit of the possessiveness towards me that I feel towards her already then the idea that I'd been with someone else recently would do to her what it did to me thinking about her with another guy.

"Are you sore?" I ask for the second time.

"Very out of practice," she confirms and I feel myself let out the breath I'd been holding. "Will Mrs Davis be here already?" she asks as she tugs on her woolly sheep shirt.

"Yeah. She'll have coffee ready if you want some," I tell her as I push on the wall to my bathroom.

"Shower first, coffee second," she tells me. "Together or separate?" she asks as she pushes on the wall on her side.

I look pointedly down at my crotch before grinning back at her. "Together you get no coffee or breakfast and are probably late for your first class. Separate you get coffee and breakfast, you choose," I challenge.

"You're insatiable," she giggles. "I really like that by the way. But I really love my coffee too, so separate. Meet you downstairs in twenty?" she calls as though we'd done this a thousand times.

"Done," I agree. "Isabella?" I call just as she disappears behind the wall. She pokes her head around and smiles for me. "I love having you here," I tell her sincerely.

Her smile gets noticeably wider then. "And I love being here," she tells me before blowing me a kiss and going into her bathroom again. "Are you sure you can get that pretty hair in order in twenty?" she calls.

"Guys don't have pretty hair!" I protest as I turn on the shower.

"You do!" she shouts before I hear her shower door squeak shut.

**BPOV**

We sat at the kitchen counter with french toast and coffee while we poured over the Herald looking for whatever new story had been printed about us overnight. To our amusement there wasn't one.

Even Mrs Davis gave a little whoop of joy once we'd read it from cover to cover and found not a single word about either of us.

Seth joined us at seven thirty and my stomach lurched at the thought of having to leave Edward behind. He must have felt the same about me leaving for the day while he stayed home because when Seth gave me the thumbs up that he was ready to leave Edward dragged me through the kitchen archway and around the corner to kiss me senseless.

"I'll be there with the car at midday," he whispered between peppering my lips with little kisses. "Be careful, I need you in one piece," he pled before kissing me again.

Seth, as cheeky as ever, coughed quite loudly before shouting at me to get a move on if I wanted to make my first class on time.

"I'll see you at midday," I promised, my hand to Edward's cheek.

Seth had to wait an extra few minutes, and I risked being late if the traffic was bad, because I just couldn't stop kissing him. He didn't seem to mind and was grinning smugly as he waved to me goodbye.

I waited for Seth to say something or give an opinion as we drove towards the university but he didn't. He wasn't silent, but he never once said a thing about me being at Edward's house or what we'd been doing while I was there.

I wanted to tell him he didn't need to invent visiting his sister for our benefit but figured that would open up the can of worms he obviously didn't want to delve into, so I left it alone.

Instead we talked about the upcoming trip to Melbourne.

He was careful to assure me that both he and Jared would be within reach the whole time we were away and that he'd personally ensure my safety. But, he also cautioned, travelling on public transport and going to places where there could be large crowds made their job harder, not impossible but harder.

I asked what the likelihood was that the press would follow us and after he'd finished laughing, the cheeky bastard, he told me straight up that not only would they follow us but they'd be super aggressive if we were out in public.

He said the instant we appeared at the airport the word would go out that we were on the move. The press wouldn't have any trouble at all finding out what flight we were on and where we were heading and that even though the flight was only an hour long there would be a press contingent waiting for us at the other end.

They'd want shots of us doing anything and everything. They'd want details about what we ate, where we stayed, what we talked about and who we talked with. If they couldn't get those details by bribing hotel and restaurant staff they'd pay other patrons to get whatever information they could.

"Edward said something as I was leaving that's bothering me," I tell him as we pull into the parking lot.

"Let me brief Jared quickly and we'll sort it out," he assures me. "Stay put, one minute," he says as he gets out of the car and meets Jared on the pavement.

They have a brief conversation during which Jared cranes his neck to check on me several times even though I doubt he can see me through the blacked out windows of the Merc. Seth points towards the other end of the parking lot and I twist around and see four or five white vans parked in a line where the lot meets the road. Jared shakes his head and points away in the opposite direction and Seth nods his head firmly. I look down that end and see nothing, no white vans and nobody with cameras. The boys exchange several more words and then Seth rejoins me in the car.

"What's bothering you little lady?" he asks once he's inside and leaning over the front seat so he can see me in the back.

"It's probably nothing," I begin, "but he made me promise to be careful. He said he needed me in one piece. Is there a chance that someone is going to try and physically hurt me?"

"We don't know," he says firmly. "Up to this point this all seems to be being played out via the media but you have to remember that even though we think its Tanya behind this we still have no idea why.

"Her showing up at your apartment was the one deviation so far. The boss wants me alert in case she has a plan b. A plan b is never a waste of time," he winks.

"That's a pretty good try," I admit. "But don't bullshit me, Seth. I'm not stupid. I don't need a full time bodyguard because of the press. They can't come on private land, they aren't allowed on campus and yet Jared's still at my shoulder.

"And Tanya won't have time to book a flight, get to the airport and get to Melbourne ahead of us next week even if she has whoever she's paying tell her the instant you turn this car into the parking lot at the airport.

"You don't strike me as an idiot," I say as calmly as I can, "so I'm guessing you're watching for her to surface so you'll know pretty quickly if she hops a plane to Melbourne. So why do we need both you and Jared no more than three feet from us the whole time we're away?"

I see a momentary flash of what looks like panic come over his face but as soon as I see it it disappears again and he's his normal composed self. "There isn't time to go any further into this," he says evenly. "Go to your classes, keep Jared close like you've been doing, have a nice time out with the boss at lunch this afternoon and put all of this out of your mind."

I'm about to protest when he holds up his hand. "Let me finish," he says sternly. "As of this minute there is no threat to you physically. None. Nothing. Not from the press or any other individual that I know about. You're safe when one of us is with you. I'll explain why you aren't safe without us this afternoon, back at the house, alright?"

"Do you promise?" I ask. "Even if the boss says not to? You'll tell me?"

"Your safety is your business, not his or anyone else's as far as I'm concerned and you have a right to know why you're being tailed so closely. Now, go to class and forget all this. I'm on it, Jared's on it, Tyler's on it when it's his turn."

"Thank you," I whisper and gather my backpack.

"Hey," Jared says as I step out of the car. "We ready, boss?" he asks me and I nod. "Press to your right and a clear path straight ahead. Chin up, boss," he reminds me and we head off.

The flash of the cameras and the shouted questions hadn't backed off at all over the past few days but I was getting better at ignoring them. Jared said so as he ushered me into the building for my first class.

He was right outside the door when I came out an hour later and as we walked to the Merewether Building it was obvious that he'd been clued up by Seth about our conversation and the upcoming trip.

"You're off on a jaunt," he says with a smile as we walk.

"Overnight in Melbourne, yeah," I admit.

"Sweet," he whistles. "The boss always picks top class hotels," he winks.

"Seth told me you're both coming," I say flatly.

"And he told me that you're worried," he says evenly. "There's no need to be, it's my job to worry, not yours. You let me worry and you just have a good time."

"How do you know what to worry about though? How do you know what to prepare for?" I ask hoping he'll tell me and I won't have to wait hours until Seth does.

"Think about us as vitamin c tablets," he tells me as we got to the building. "If you take the tablets all the time you might never get a cold. But if you start taking them once you're already sick there's not a lot they can do."

"You're the prevention rather than the cure," I say.

"Exactly," he chuckled. "We do all the donkey work before you even sit your butt down on the plane," he says as he holds the door open for me. "The boss tells us flight numbers and hotel names and we check it all out first. He tells us what restaurant but we book the right tables, in the safest positions. We hire the cars and we drive them ourselves so that nobody gets pictures or audio of you in them."

"But we're planning to go on trams and sit in cafes, there'll be crowds. How can you guard against who might be in a crowd?" I ask as we take seats outside the lecture hall to wait for the professor to call me in.

"We can't," he admits. "But we stick close to you, at your shoulder or at least very close to it if you're moving through a big crowd. When you stop we stop, when you go again we go again."

"When I pee you pee?" I chuckle.

"When you pee I stand outside the door," he says quietly as two girls pass by, hiding their gossipy giggling behind their hands.

"Seriously?" I whisper as soon as they are far enough away. "If I go to a public bathroom you'll wait outside the door for me?"

"It's my job," he shrugs.

"A shitty job," I sigh.

He nudges me with his elbow and grins. "You said you only needed to pee, not number two's," he laughs and I can't help but join him. The doors to the hall opened then and he nodded towards them. "Go get smart, I'll be right here when you're done."

I still don't understand why he has to be there at all and realise I've been hoodwinked by him pretty professionally. He'd been briefed by Seth about what I'd asked but he avoided having to answer. Seth had told me outright to put it out of my mind until later; Jared had effectively done the same by deflecting the question and turning the rest of the conversation into a joke.

He was good.

Bloody good I thought as I picked a seat midway between the front and back of the lecture hall. I knew better after three days than to sit either at the front or at the back.

At the front I felt every set of eyes focused on the back of my head. At the back I got to see those eyes first hand when they swivelled around to get a look at me. In the middle I only saw half and only heard half the whispering. It wasn't ideal but it was better than other alternatives.

"One more class," I mutter to myself as the professor comes on stage.

**EPOV**

By eight I was bored. By eight thirty I was bored rigid and by ten to nine I was pacing my study like a caged tiger.

It had been so long since I'd ditched going in to the office that I'd forgotten what being at home alone was like. In a word – boring.

Too quiet by half, even with the stereo on in the sitting room next door. Too still too. There was nobody rushing about like there was at the office. Nobody knocking on my door needing my attention. Nobody to yell at, nobody to ask an opinion of and nobody to roll my eyes at when they gave their opinion to me.

I'd been up and down the stairs ten times between signing and faxing the transfer documents back to the office in search of a snack. I never ate snacks. I ate breakfast, lunch and dinner. I never snacked.

But today I was so bored eating seemed a good idea. But because I was rarely home except for breakfast and dinner there weren't any snacks to be had. Short of raiding Seth's cupboards I was shit out of luck.

There was a bowl of various fruits on the kitchen counter but I wanted something sweet. Or salty. Or forbidden. Not fruit.

Mrs Davis would've whipped me up something sinful in minutes but she'd gone to do the days shopping as soon as she'd loaded the breakfast dishes into the machine.

I'd already talked to Kate, who was still buzzing over being all set for her day off and a weekend on a yacht, who told me my conference call with Equity was set for nine fifteen. Even that seemed far too far away as I sat on my new red sofa and watched the clock tick round.

I had all my notes laid out and the dot points I wanted to discuss already sitting by the telephone console on my desk and could already recite them by rote I'd read over them so many times.

I checked and rechecked my personal phone a dozen times – hoping for a message from Isabella – but she was already in classes and I knew the wish was futile.

I thought about calling Emmett but didn't want to answer his probing questions about my personal life. And I knew he'd ask and that the questions would be probing. That was Emmett. As subtle as a sledgehammer.

Rose wouldn't be so intrusive in her questioning but I didn't feel like listening to the details of how my niece, Amelia who was three, had smooshed her breakfast into the carpet that morning or how my nephew, Liam who was eight months old, had puked in her hair the night before.

Amelia always threw her food, Liam was always puking.

So calling my sister was out too.

Mom would probably like to know that Isabella had accepted the invitation to dinner, and to the club afterwards, but that call had no chance of ending before my conference call was due so that was out too.

Dad would be at work.

With nothing else to do I went back into my study and pulled out that day's copy of The Financial Review. I knew I should be more diligent in reading it but it bored me too, and not just that day. It always bored me.

It was page after page of the same shit, just the names changed. Either someone had fucked up and his company was now worth less than dirt or someone had hit pay dirt and his previously ailing company was the bright, new shiny light of hope for the economy. It never deviated.

Today's lead story was an 'expose' on lawyers who marked up their billing hours. Hardly headline news. Page two had a report on how overseas property investors were killing the real estate market. Again, hardly news and very wrong in my opinion.

Page three was a profile piece on the next online wunderkind who had designed a game for use on tablet pc's that was 'taking the world by storm'. "Yeah," I scoffed, "design a free game and make twenty million off it on paper. Wait till you try and buy a hamburger with your pretend money," I joke as I stare down at the geeky little prick's picture.

I flip the page while checking my watch and see that I have killed ten minutes. Thank god I think as I scan page four.

"Motherfucker!" I roar as I see the headline. I quickly scan the first few lines as I reach for my phone. I dial with one hand while using my other to scroll down my list of contacts in Outlook on my laptop. "Get back here," I bark at Seth. "We're going in to the office."

I end the call, not interested in explaining why I was going in when I'd taken the day off, and keep scrolling down my contacts. I dial again, "Is she in a class?" I ask when Jared answers.

"Yes, boss," he replies.

"You double your efforts to keep her far enough away from the press that she can't hear their questions. Are we clear?" I demand.

"Yes, boss," he says quickly.

"When her class is finished you explain that there's been a change of plans for lunch. You tell her I've had to go in to the office real quick and that we're meeting there before going on to lunch. Got it?"

"Got it."

"If you can I need her to ignore her personal phone until she gets here."

"She has it on silent in classes anyway, I'll distract her when she comes out so she doesn't turn the ringer back on," he says and I sigh, relieved.

"Good call. Stay alert," I beg of him and he promises that he will despite the fact that he has no clue what he's being alert for.

My next call is, unfortunately, to Kate.

"I'm sorry Kate," I say when she answers. "I know you're already driving to the marina but I need you to make some calls."

"Let me pull over," she says and I try and wait patiently until she's safely on the side of the road. "Get me a pen," she calls, probably to her husband, the phone obviously now on the front seat while she digs around in her bag. "Got one," she says more clearly. "Go."

"Cancel the Equity conference. Make it Monday; I'll be in the office after all. Call Caius and tell him I need a face to face today, I don't care when or where. You got that?" I ask.

"Equity cancelled to Monday. Caius consult," she confirms.

"I need Marcus to call me. I don't care when, he's in Hong Kong and the time difference is shit but tell him whenever suits him. Call Alec and have him sit on the funds transfer documents I just faxed back. That might not go through after all. And get Alistair into the office right away. Tell him I need to physically see the legislation documents for international steel transfer and procurement. Seth's collecting me and I'll be in within the hour, make sure Alistair's got his ass in a seat in my office by the time I get there."

"I'm turning around now," she says.

"No, don't. Make those calls, set that all up and you keep going towards the boat. You deserve the time off, Kate. Half of this isn't anything to do with work and you don't have to do my bidding for my own personal shit fights," I sigh.

"I'm turning around now," she says firmly and I shake my head sadly. "If you think the contracts with Malita Steel aren't going to go through that's business."

"There is a chance," I admit, "but I won't know for hours, so I really don't want you to turn around," I tell her quietly. "Really, Kate. I appreciate your loyalty but please, go and enjoy the boat while you can."

"But Mr Cullen..." she protests and I cut her off.

"I mean it. You show up in the office before eight on Monday morning consider it your last day," I say severely. "I really appreciate you wanting to come in but just make those calls and I'll handle the rest. Please."

I hear her huff and can only imagine the war going on in her head. She was a brilliant PA and a very loyal woman it seemed.

"I'll call you back in half an hour and confirm the calls and the outcomes, but if I can't reach any one of these on this list I'm turning around, employed or not," she says firmly.

"Do your best. Half an hour," I agree and end the call.

I click on the contact information on my screen and tap the number into my phone. It dials which is a good sign and when it's answered I do my best to rein in my temper.

"Edward Cullen calling for Jacob Black," I tell the woman on the other end. She tells me to please hold.

"Mr Black is in on a conference call and has asked me to take a message," she tells me when she picks the call back up.

"Please inform Mr Black that if he hasn't returned my call by one pm I will instruct my lawyer to proceed with a defamation claim forthwith," I tell her and hear her suck in a breath hastily.

"Please hold," she says, like I knew she would. I wait, jiggling my thigh to the beat of the horrible on hold music. "Mr Black will return your call the instant his meeting is concluded. Could you give me your preferred contact number please Mr Cullen?"

I recite my number and hang up. I look at my watch and see that it's now nine thirty. "You've got three and a half hours Black, you fucking piece of shit," I hiss as I begin shoving all my reports and files into my briefcase.

**BPOV**

I don't notice that I'm being steered the long way around back to the parking lot until we're already there. Jared talks nonstop about nothing as we go and I wonder what he's distracting me from.

I expect Edward to be in the car when I get there and it comes as a bit of a shock when he's not.

"What's happened?" I ask, panic and worry rising inside me.

"Slight change of plans," Jared says calmly as he backs carefully out of the spot. "The boss had to go in to the office for a little bit, that's all. We're meeting him there."

I let go of my held in breath in relief. "We're still going to lunch?" I ask.

"Sure, that's what the boss said," he shrugs as he pulls into the traffic.

I reply that that's good and settle back into the seat with my notes from class.

The traffic is light despite it being lunchtime and we pull up at the Cullen Enterprises building quickly. Jared accompanies me through the foyer, into the lift and then sits me down at one of the meeting areas when we get to the top floor.

I look around but don't see Kate and I'm pleased about that. It meant that whatever Edward had to come in for today hadn't meant Kate had to change her plans.

And then we hear it.

It's hard to miss it.

The roar startles me and makes Jared sit up straighter.

The next shout is louder again and I wonder what the hell is going on on the other side of the office doors.

I can't make out what's actually being said, but whoever Edward was yelling at wasn't popular. He didn't stop for breath for the first five minutes I was there.

All is quiet for a moment and Jared gets up and moves to the office door. As soon as he raises his hand to knock on it the shouting starts again. He quickly comes back to where I'm sitting and pulls up a chair for himself.

"We'll give it another minute," he says sheepishly, but he needn't have.

"It's okay," I tell him truthfully. "I knew he was a hard-ass at work."

"Yeah, a hard-ass," he mumbles. "Never heard him go off like that before though," he says with a nod towards the office.

I'm about to say that Edward's a perfectionist and someone hasn't done what he asked how he asked it to be done when the door opens and an obviously shaken dirty blonde man comes out.

He's clutching a stack of papers to his chest and as soon as the office door shuts behind him he scuttles past us, a grimace on his lips, and then ducks behind one of the doors that lead off the main room.

"Alec," Jared whispers to me. "Head of Finance."

"He looks terrified," I whisper back.

Whatever Jared was going to say next is cut off by the sound of glass breaking in the office. He's on his feet instantly and striding towards the doors. This time he doesn't knock. He goes right in and I'm left on my own, wondering what the hell was going on.

There's more shouting, a loud thump and then another man comes out the doors. He comes right to me and though he looks just as shaken as Alec had been he shifts his facial features so that by the time he's stood in front of me he looks relatively calm.

"Miss Swan," he says, offering me his hand. "I'm Alistair, Cullen Enterprises corporate lawyer. Mr Cullen's meeting is running a little longer than he expected and sends his apologies for keeping you waiting."

"Nice to meet you," I say flatly as I get to my feet and shake his hand.

"He's asked that I show you where the coffee is kept," he says with a nod down the way a little.

I follow behind him and can't help but cringe when I hear another roar from Edward's office.

"Is everything alright?" I ask as he holds a door open for me.

"Slight mishap with a deal I'm afraid," he says quietly with a slight downturn to his lips. "You'll find everything you need in here," he says, waving his arm about the small room. "We shouldn't be too much longer," he apologises.

"Its fine," I tell him as I take a mug down from the hooks under the shelving unit.

"Alistair!" comes a shout and I jump a little.

"Coming," he calls back and he disappears from the doorway.

I stick my head out and watch him run – yes run – back towards Edward's office. Seth is holding the door open and as he spots me he tips his head and raises his eyebrows at me. I get the message and slip back into the coffee room.

Whatever is going on in there isn't good I think as I pour the premade coffee into the mug.

**EPOV**

"Edward," I hear at my shoulder. I ignore it and keep reading through the case notes in front of me. "Edward," I hear a little louder and swat at the hand on my shoulder.

"One minute," I ask for and Seth moves away a little, giving me some room to breathe.

I read to the bottom of the page, flip to the next and read the last paragraph. I make some quick dot point notes in the margin and flip the pages back to the front.

I know that everyone in the office is waiting on me, I can hear them breathing and shuffling uncomfortably but I don't care. I pay them to wait.

I slide the folder and its pages across the desk and look up at Alistair. "What is your opinion?" I ask.

"Even if that case is cited, which I don't think it can be, not in the context we're concerned about, there is no way a case can be made to stick against you," he tells me firmly.

"You covered this? In the original brief?" I ask him as I tap on the folder.

"Of course," he says firmly and I believe him.

Alistair was the consummate professional. If there was any way I was liable, or could be made to be deemed liable for any of Jake Black's claims, Alistair would've warned me about it before I went ahead with the deal.

"Alec," I bark at my Head of Finance. He jolts upright and his face begins to flush. "You have four hours to find me a money trail," I tell him. He nods but doesn't move. "Go!" I roar at him and he jumps to his feet, scrambling to collect his papers as he does.

"And you?" I ask Caius, "Can I sue?"

"Anyone can sue anybody they like," he shrugs.

His flippancy had me on my feet, the heavy cut glass that always stood on my desk with pencils in it in my hand in a heartbeat. I threw that fucker across the room and watched it shatter against the wall satisfyingly.

Seth was at my shoulder before I could blink but I shook his hand off again with a shrug of my own. "I'm not paying your fucking fee for you to be vague," I roar at Caius, his shocked face now puce. "Can I sue the bastard?" I ask again.

I see Jared come into the office but ignore him as I concentrate on Caius' advice.

"If Alistair is sure that your contracts are air tight, and the precedent's you've just read are the only ones relevant then yes, you can sue him for libel," he said carefully.

"Are they air tight?" I ask Alistair who is already nodding before I finished asking. "Find me other precedents," I shout across the desk, wondering why he wasn't already on his feet and going to find them.

"Edward," Seth says quietly at my shoulder again and I round on him venomously.

"What?" I roar.

"Isabella is outside waiting for you," he says calmly.

"Fuck!" I roar again. "Wait," I tell Alistair before he can leave and he turns back and sits back down.

I look down at my watch and see that it's twelve-thirty already. I'd gotten exactly nowhere in the hours since she'd been in class and I didn't want her to know anything about the mess I was dealing with.

Not yet anyway.

Not until I had an answer.

Not until I was sure I hadn't broken the law.

Not until I was sure that she'd stay with me if I had.

I crane my neck and feel it pop and crack as I do. I tug on the ends of my cuffs and straighten my tie.

The men in the room watch me cautiously and they're right to be wary. I was wound tight as a drum and it wouldn't matter to me which one of them tipped me over the edge. I'd as soon take a swing at them all rather than just one of them anyway.

"Okay," I bark. "Alistair, please go and introduce yourself to Miss Swan. Show her the coffee room and apologise that this meeting has run overtime."

He's out the door fairly quickly and I'm pleased. I hated yelling. I hated shouting to make myself heard and understood. But sometimes it was the only way to get people moving at a pace that would get the job done.

"Black has another twelve minutes," I say, looking down at my watch and making the calculation, "If he hasn't made contact by then file the necessary paperwork," I tell my personal lawyer.

"As you wish," he says simply and gets to his feet. "Call my service if you hear from him," he says as he offers his hand across the breadth of my desk. "Personally I do hope he doesn't call," he snarls as we shake.

"Me too," I hiss.

When he's gone I go into the adjoining bathroom and get the cleaning girls bucket from the cupboard. I go back into my office and scoop up the shards of glass. I dump the buckets contents into the bin in the bathroom, wash my hands and splash a little water on my face in an attempt to wipe the anger and frustration from my features.

I stare at myself in the mirror for a moment, take a few deep, cleansing breaths and smooth down my shirt and its cuffs again.

"Get Alistair back in here," I bark at Seth before sitting back down at my desk. I point to the chair recently vacated by Caius and tell Jared to sit in it. "You keep her away from the press?" I ask as I shove all my assorted files into the bottom drawer.

"Yes sir," he replies formally.

"Her personal phone still on silent?" I ask as I lock the drawer.

"Yes sir," he replies quickly.

"She upset at the yelling?" I ask carefully.

"No sir," he tells me and I let my shoulders relax just a little.

"I'm taking her to the Brasserie for lunch," I tell him. "Seth's done the leg work but I'll need you to shadow us. How long until you switch out with Tyler?"

"I only came on in time for her first class this morning so I'm good to go until six," he says matter of factly.

I nod to show him that I've heard and understood but say nothing more. I'm nowhere near calm enough to be in her presence and I have one more task to set for Alistair before I can even think about leaving for lunch, so I tidy my desk while I wait for his return.

Seth shuts the doors behind him and they both come to the edge of the desk.

"I don't have to remind you why it's so important that we have all the case law we can find behind us as we tackle this," I say as calmly as I can to the frantically nodding man opposite. "But if this sticks," I say, waving my hand over the article in the paper, "if someone can make an actual case out of this we're all fucked," I say simply.

"I was careful," Alistair insists and I know that he's being truthful. "If there had been even a sniff of anything inappropriate I would've told you early on in the deal," he insists and I'm inclined to believe him. He was brilliant and that's why I'd stolen him away from his last job to work for me.

"Okay," I concede. "I trust that you know what you're doing but it's my signature on those contracts, not yours, so you had better check over your handiwork before this goes any further. And I need those precedents as soon as possible."

"Close of business," is his standard answer and as he stands to leave I know I'll have what I need by then.

"On your way down have someone vacuum up any glass I've missed," I tell Jared who gets to his feet instantly. "And thank you for today, you did well."

"Thanks, boss," he says more freely, probably because the worst of my anger had dissipated. "I'll organise that and be right behind you as you leave," he says to me and to Seth.

I thank him again and wait until the door is closed behind him before I let out the breath I'd been holding for what seemed like hours. "This is bad," I sigh.

"It looks bad," he concedes as he too gets to his feet. "But you know your team, you trust them and their individual specialities so what looks bad isn't necessarily actually bad," he says calmly.

"I trust the deal," I tell him firmly. "I _know_ that I'm within the law on this. I _know_ that what that asshole is selling is bullshit. I just have to be able to prove it in court."

"Alistair will argue until his last breath," he reminds me and I nod, knowing he was right. "And Caius will sort out the civil side of things," he told me to which I nod again. "Now, get your shit together and let's go to lunch, I'm starving."

**BPOV**

I flick over the pages of my assignments while I wait for Edward but its tough going.

A deathly pale man came out of the office. He didn't even look my way as he went towards the lift. I deduced he wasn't the source of the problem because there was still plenty of yelling going on after he left.

It's hard to concentrate when I can hear raised voices every now and then so by the time Alistair comes back out of the office – only to scurry away, ignoring me completely – I gave up and just stared at the view out the windows.

Jared came out next. He told me we'd be leaving for lunch very soon so I packed up my things so I'd be ready.

Seth was the next one out and he strode towards where I was sitting, a smile plastered to his face. "You're in for a treat," he told me jovially. "He's taking you to the Brasserie."

"Should I know what that is?" I ask as I pull my backpack onto my shoulder.

"Probably not," he laughs as we walk towards the office slowly. "It's called the Glass Brasserie actually, but everyone shortens it," he snorts as he opens the office door for me.

I tell him thank you and go in. Edward is sitting on his sofa and he's trying very hard to look relaxed and casual. He sucks at it but I don't call him on it. If he wants to share his troubles with me he will. When he's ready.

"Hey, beautiful," he grins as he gets to his feet.

"Hey yourself," I smile and go to him.

He holds me. Tightly. Burying his nose in my hair. I hear and feel him take in a deep, deep breath before he lets it out against my throat. He kisses me softly, squeezing me tight to his chest before letting me go. I look up into his eyes and his game face is firmly back in place.

"You're going to love the place I'm taking you," he tells me playfully.

"Are you ready to go then?" I ask, watching him go to his desk to collect his things.

His posture is off. He's stiff, as though he's coiled tightly, a spring just waiting for the moment in time when the pressure can no longer be contained and its set free.

"All set," he says brightly, though his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. He takes my hand and leads me out of the office and to the lift.

"Is everything alright?" I ask carefully as we three, Seth in front of the two of us like a sentinel, get into the carriage and begin the descent to the garage level.

"Problems with a deal I thought was signed, sealed and delivered," Edward tells me evenly before lifting my fingers to his lips. "I was a bit wound up over it but I'm fine now, now that you're here," he smiles and this time it does reach his eyes.

"We don't have to go out," I offer. "Stay here, finish your work. Get the deal tucked away. I don't mind."

"No," he says very calmly. "There's nothing more I can do on it right now. I may have to look over some things late this afternoon, once we're back at the house, but for now I just want to show you this amazing place to eat."

I take that at face value, after all I'd given him an out and he'd declined. Whatever it was that had gone wrong with his deal was either out of his hands personally or his employees were working on it so that it could be put to bed.

I smile at him as we get into the car and when Seth sets off I try and put all the yelling – and the sound of that glass smashing too – out of my mind and enjoy his company.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading. **

**Please review.**


	12. Chapter 12

**EPOV**

The press were everywhere when we got to the Hilton, as expected. They shouted and jeered us as we got out of the car and made the short walk into the Brasserie. Thankfully, with the public milling around as they are wont to do in big cities, it was impossible to make out more than just the odd word of their shouted questions as we hurried inside.

Isabella was enchanted by the place, as I knew she would be. It was one of my favourites and I hoped I'd be able to take her to it often.

The Hilton itself was impressive, as they were all over the world, but the small restaurant inside it was unique. It boasted a mirrored glass ceiling and that ceiling had to be twenty feet up, which was impressive enough in and of itself, but the glass wall of wine bottles not only gave the place its name but also its charm.

Lights embedded in the ceiling mirrors as well as chandeliers threw light down onto that wall of bottles and the differing hues of the glass made the whole place glow.

Seth - and Jared who had joined us at the curb – moved away once we were inside and I saw them head off to their own table, heads swivelling about to make sure we were both safe.

I gave my name to the hostess but hated having to pull Isabella away from where she stood admiring the scenery.

Once we were seated, at a very discreet table that was protected on one side by a wall and on the other by one of the panels of mirror that lined the adjacent wall.

Isabella's eyes were on strings as she took it all in and I felt all my tension and anxiety melt away as I watched her smiling face.

"It's amazing," she cooed as she began pointing out features to me.

"It is," I replied honestly, not thinking about our surroundings but more about the wonderful woman across the table from me.

Our lunch was equally as wonderful as the company I kept. The food, always fantastic on previous visits, was even better than I remembered because I finally had someone to share it with that wasn't a colleague.

We never stopped talking either. There seemed as though there was so much to say between us and I found that astounding. I always lacked for topics when dining with others, even if my table companions were family or good friends I always found myself on the periphery of conversations rather than driving them.

But with Isabella it seemed that we were never lost for words.

She told me all about her classes, her teachers and some of the 'weirdos' she had in those classes. I told her about my time at university and some of the 'weirdos' I'd had in my classes. She laughed loudly when I reminded her that Emmett had been in those classes with me.

Every now and then Seth would rise from his table and stroll past us. Isabella would watch him but she never asked where he went each time and I was grateful for that. I knew the routine. I knew that he, or Jared, would check things out at random intervals. I knew that one or both of them would thoroughly go over my car before we left the restaurant and I knew that there was a plan in place to get us out of there via another exit should the need arise.

Isabella didn't know any of that and I was pleased for it.

We sat longer than I normally would have after a meal and sipped strong coffee, dipping almond cookies into it while we talked about our Melbourne trip.

Apart from the waitress bringing and clearing our meals and drinks we weren't interrupted. That was unusual for me. I was used to having to take calls no matter where I was or what time it was and under normal circumstances I'd be grateful to not be disturbed.

But they weren't normal circumstances. Jake hadn't contacted me and I was itching to have Caius file the lawsuit. After the third time I looked at my watch Isabella's brows knit together and she looked at me curiously.

"Do you need to go back to the office?" she asked.

"No," I scoffed, hopefully convincingly.

"You keep looking at your watch," she pointed out. "Where do you need to be then?"

"I'm right where I want to be," I tell her with a smile and reach for her hand across the table.

"That's not what I asked," she whispered. "I know you _want_ to be here, I asked where you _need_ to be."

Smart girls turned me on and she was smart. So very smart. I leaned a little closer to her and whispered back. "I _need_ to be in bed with you," I grinned.

"Good answer," she whispered back before licking her lips a little, making me squirm in my seat. "But whatever it is that really needs your attention I understand," she says. "I have some homework and a few assignments I need to work on, so we can leave if you need to go."

I don't want to leave and I don't want to deal with the issues that are weighing me down but I don't want them left hanging over my head either so I agree. "On one condition," I grin. "I'll work from home but only if you come with me?"

My request wasn't wholly because I wanted her near me. I didn't know what the likelihood was her of her reading the Financial Review regularly, but considering she was studying to be an accountant it was certainly possible. My condition was also because if she went to her own home there was a good chance that the press would tip her off to the article and I was afraid that she'd never give me a chance to explain it if she was on her own when it was brought to her attention.

So for purely selfish reasons I wanted her near me.

But I could see from the look on her face that she was about to turn me down. My shoulders had already slumped before she gave me her answer.

"That's not practical," she began. "You'll be busy in your office there and I don't have my textbooks at your place, or my laptop," she threw on at the end.

"You could bring them," I all but begged but her decision was already made.

"Only to lug them all back again later," she said with a swift shake of her head. "I have to go home at some point," she whispered, squeezing my hand. "I'd like to invite you to work from there but I know that's even less practical."

"I could come over later," I say quickly.

"I'd like that," she smiled. "I know!" she said, getting excited, "I can finally cook for you if you come over later."

"I'd love that," I tell her truthfully. "But we're having dinner at my parents tonight, remember?"

"Oh, shoot," she whistles. "I forgot about that."

"You still want to go, don't you?" I ask a little desperately.

"Of course I do," she says with a smile. "How about I go home and do some homework, you go to your home and do your work, and you can come over a little earlier than we'd need to leave for dinner and we'll have coffee first?" she asks with a grin.

I hope I know what that grin means so I grin too. "Deal," I tell her firmly.

"How do we get boys attention without getting theirs?" she asks nodding towards Seth and Jared before nodding towards the exit where there was a long line of press hovering.

"It's simple," I grin. "There are all sorts of queues. We have a bit of a system. Watch," I say quietly and pick up my glass from the table.

I tap it three times on its base and then set it by my left hand.

Immediately we heard the scrape of two chairs and as Jared came towards us we see Seth striding to the exit doors and begin shooing the press aside.

"It's simple," she giggles as she stands.

"Isabella will be heading to her own home," I tell Jared who nods that he's heard. "Wait for us at the door please," I ask of him and he makes his way towards Seth. "We'll have to say goodbye here, unfortunately," I tell her softly as I kiss just behind her left ear.

She raises her hand to my cheek and gets up onto her toes, preparing to kiss me, but then she balks and lets me go. She's biting the inside of her lip and trying not to be obviously looking towards the windows that allow the press a good, clear view of us.

"I'm sorry," she whispers but I hear her.

"Don't be," I whisper back. "I understand."

She lifts her eyes to mine and I can see the war going on behind them. She knows now as well as I have always known that every move we make is going to be photographed and commented on for the foreseeable future.

I watch as the defiance and confidence returns to her eyes and then she's on her toes again, her warm little hand on my cheek as she snakes it around to my neck slowly. She tugs, just a little, and I lower my lips to hers.

It's a chaste kiss, just the meeting of our lips briefly, but it's enough for the flashes of the cameras to begin, startling the other patrons and infuriating both Seth and Jared.

"You're so brave, thank you," I smile down at her. "I'll see you for coffee later. Be careful please," I tell her with a squeeze to her hand as we move away from the table. "I'll settle the bill, you go with Jared."

"Thank you for lunch, it was lovely," she smiles. "I'll see you later," says before moving away to join Jared at the door. "I know, I know," she giggles as he opens his mouth. "Chin up, smile on. Let's go."

And then she's off and as she rushes past the press I stand and watch her progress. They don't jostle her, and lucky for them that they don't, but I can see that she's gritting her teeth as she sidesteps around the more insistent men with their cameras and recording devices shoved in her face.

"She's pretty good at this," Seth says as he comes to stand by me at the counter.

I hand my credit card over to the hostess and then turn back to watch through the windows.

I see the moment when one of their questions has bothered her and I cringe. She stops dead in her tracks despite Jared urging her forward. She speaks, maybe only one or two words and then she's turning, staring at me through the windows. Her eyes pleading with me.

I don't get a chance to mouth anything in her direction because Jared pulls on her forearm and she's propelled forward, out of my line of sight and away to the car.

I accept the receipt, sign my name mechanically and slide my credit card back into my wallet. I walk like a man condemned to the front door and rush my way across the street, Seth right beside me.

I look and see my other car pulling away from the curb and the group of press who had just accosted Isabella rush back to have a crack at me. I ignore them as best I can and slide into the backseat, slamming the door after me harshly.

Seth, to his credit, says nothing as he gets into the driver's seat and takes me home.

I spend the entire trip wondering if should call her and whether or not I've just said my last goodbye to Isabella Swan.

**BPOV**

"What did he mean?" I shout to Jared as he speeds off through the traffic.

"I don't know," he says calmly but I'm really not interested in calm right then.

"Spill what you do know then," I demand.

He opens his mouth but his phone rings and whatever he was going to say to me is forgotten as he presses the hands free button and answers.

I listen as he receives instructions from Seth but there's nothing said relating to what I'd just been asked so I ignore the third party micromanagement of _my_ life and stare out the windows instead.

Jared ends his call and returns his full attention to driving. Just as I'm about to lose my shit and start yelling at him to tell me what the fuck is going on he sighs, yells at a guy in a ute that pulled out in front of us and gives me an answer.

"I don't have any idea what that journalist meant," he says evenly. "If I did I'd tell you, but I don't," he says matter of factly.

"Are you allowed to leave me in the car while you run into a shop for me?" I ask, an idea forming.

He thinks hard on it a moment. "Sure, if the shop is in a back street and there's no press following us as we pull up. I'll have to take the keys and lock you in though," he says.

"Fine. Find a newsagent or a milk bar or somewhere," I tell him.

He nods, tells me he knows one close and then he turns off the main road into side streets.

As soon as that's sorted I turn the ringer on my phone back on. I'd forgotten about it after classes because our lunch plans had changed. I'd intended to use my connection to start looking at the newspapers online but its incessant ringing and chirping alerted me to the fact that something was either very wrong or very big news.

It started ringing immediately, none of the callers being Edward. There are voicemail messages, emails, Facebook messages and text messages coming in a steady stream as we drive.

I hear Jared mutter 'fucking hell' under his breath and I think he's pretty close to the mark. Whatever was going on was big. Whatever had happened or had been reported was bad, very bad and whatever it was had something to do with me because every single message I had was asking for my comment.

Jared pulls the car up in front of a tiny row of shops two blocks from my apartment.

"What do you need?" he asks.

"Every newspaper they have. One of each," I tell him as I hand him a twenty.

He's quiet for a second, the money hanging between us limply as he thought. Decision made he simply said "Done. Keep your head down," and then he was bounding into the shop.

I continue to decline the calls in between deleting the messages asking for my comments while I wait for him to come back. He's not gone long and when he does come back he's got two plastic shopping bags full of newspapers.

He puts them in my lap and then gets back in the driver's seat.

I don't bother opening any of them as we're so close to my place so I sit as patiently as I can until we get there. The press contingent has tripled since I'd left there last. Jared tells me to shove the papers into my backpack and then we're off.

They're super aggressive now, just like the ones at the restaurant had been. They try to push at me, pull at me and try to block my way so they have more time to ask their questions of me. I ignore them all even though I want to know what they're talking about.

The silence in the lobby of my building is almost peaceful but I'm wound tight. Jared ushers me into the lift after a brief word with Ethan who looks bored.

I dismiss Jared after thanking him for getting me the papers and he disappears back into the hall leaving me alone with my research.

I tipped the contents of the plastic bags out onto my dining room table and sit down to start reading. I ignore the Herald, been there, done that.

There was nothing in the Daily Telegraph and nothing in The Bulletin either.

I moved on to a few of the regional ones and found nothing there either.

After half an hour of reading crap I start to think I've got the wrong idea. That there isn't an actual story anywhere and that the problem is in some other form other than the print media.

I grab the next paper and with a goodly portion of doubt in my head I start scanning the first pages. Page four I hit pay dirt. I turn back to the front and see that I'm reading the Financial Review. My stomach drops as I reread the headline and I feel the bile rise in my throat as I read the body of the article.

I read it twice, just to make sure I'd actually seen what I thought I'd seen and then I folded the paper neatly and set it back on the top of the stack.

"Well," I sighed, "at least now I know why he was yelling."

I dial Jared's number and he answers right away, his voice clipped and anxious.

"Nothing's wrong up here," I tell him right away. "I need to go somewhere."

"You need to tell me where," he says, knowing I have no idea what the protocol is yet.

"Edward's house," is the simple answer.

"No problem, I'll be right up."

"Don't call ahead," I warn him, "I'll come right out," I tell him and hang up. I repack my backpack with a few clean clothes and throw the newspaper in on top of everything once I'm done.

I call my brother and leave a message with Angela telling him that I'm alright and that I'm staying at Edward's for a while and then I step out into the hall just as Jared comes out of the lift.

He admonishes me lightly for not waiting for him and I accept his criticism as well as I can while my head is swarming with questions.

**EPOV**

Jake hadn't called. I had him. I finally had him. I took great pleasure in calling Caius and giving him the go ahead and he sounded just as pleased as I felt to finally be able to stick it to the piece of shit we knew Jake to be.

Alec had come through for me and had faxed me copies of the money trail I'd asked for. That bolstered my belief that Jake Black had just signed his own professional death warrant as I read through them.

Alistair hadn't lied when he'd told me he'd been diligent. His reports, also faxed through to my home machine, showed me exactly how good I'd always known him to be. He knew the law inside and out compared to my mediocre abilities and I thanked him profusely for his work as we went through the reports together by phone.

He'd provided me three more case studies with three precedents that would come in handy should this end with me in court.

Marcus was still yet to return my call but I knew he would once he was able. I felt better knowing I had my own backyard in order before I talked to him anyway.

Emmett was prepped and his team was working on a statement that would be released to the press as soon as I gave the go ahead. I'd had enough of being roasted now. I was over being painted as the villain and was resigned to the fact that now was the time to defend myself publicly before both mine and my brother in laws worst fears came true and my bottom line started being affected by the bad publicity.

All that despite the fact that I hadn't done anything wrong. And that was what really pissed me off. The deal I'd signed was a good one. It was going to help hundreds if not thousands of people and still Jake attempted to use it to ruin me.

I heard the buzzer go for the front gate and sighed. The fucking press had been pressing it at regular intervals since I'd arrived home an hour prior. I was almost ready to turn the hose on the fuckers.

I took my now empty coffee mug with me downstairs to get a refill and to ask Seth if there was anything we could legally do to get the mongrels to stop pushing the gate bell. He was waiting for me at the foot of the stairs.

"Can't we stop that?" I asked, nodding towards the direction of the street.

"Wasn't the press that time. Incoming," he said stiffly.

"Who is it?" I asked as I went into the kitchen to get more coffee.

"You'll see," he called from the foyer.

I heard a car door slam, the crunch of quickly moving feet on the gravel outside and then the front door open and quickly close.

"Edward?" I hear shouted from the foyer.

I knew that voice. I ditched my cup and ran.

She stood just inside the door flanked by Seth and Jared and she had a folded copy of the Financial Review in her hand. She waved it at me as she spoke.

"Is it true?" she asked hurriedly. I looked at Seth but before I could reply she waved the paper again and advanced on me. "You don't look to them," she hissed. "You look at me. Is it true?" she asked again.

"Some of it," I admit.

"Which bits?" she asks as she slaps me in the chest with the paper.

I didn't know how to answer that simply. "The good bits," I hedge.

"There's good bits in that drivel?" she seethes, pointing to the paper I now held in my hand. "Because I didn't read any good bits."

"I can explain," I plead.

"You bet your ass you're going to explain," she hisses as she drops her backpack at her feet. "I need to pee and I need a beer and then when I've got one you're going to walk me through it. Slowly. Right?" she asks.

Both Seth and Jared twitter and I throw them both the evil eye. They shut up quick. "Bugger off," I tell them and they scurry past us, through the arch and hopefully down all the stairs they could find. I stare down at the magnificent creature before me and thank my lucky stars that she was there – even though she was seriously pissed off – and giving me the chance to defend myself.

"Right?" she asks again, probably sick of waiting for me to answer her.

"Right," I agree. "I'll get the beer and be in my office."

"Damn straight you will be," she mutters darkly as she goes down the hall towards the guest bedroom and its bathroom.

I run, yes run, down to the bar and pull two beer bottles from the fridge there. Then I run, yes run, back up to the main floor, up the stairs and into my office. I knock the tops off both bottles, set them onto the desk, swipe all the paperwork off its surface into a pile and throw that on the floor beside my chair. I open her copy of the paper and crane my neck as I prepare for her.

I'm sitting in my chair waiting for her when she gets there.

She accepts the beer from me with a soft thank you, takes a long swig and then points to the article. "Tell me about the deal. Start there," she says and I agree.

"Okay," I sigh. "Marcus McDonald is a steel broker that I've dealt with a hundred times. He approached me six months ago with a proposal to supply stainless steel to an Asian company that makes surgical instruments."

"So he's the middle man?" she asks and I nod.

"He is. In this case he represented the buyer to find the right supplier, but at other times I'll ask him to find me a buyer if I have a surplus I need to offload or something that's been produced as a by product of the steel smelting process. He takes a cut of the final price, no matter who he's representing, as his fee for matching the buyer and seller together. Very standard. I deal with hundreds of brokers."

"So it's not Marcus, or the broker, who decides whether the deals a good one. He's just the guy who finds a buyer or a seller, depending on who's hired him?" she asks.

"Exactly," I tell her proudly. "This deal itself is a simple one. The buyer worked alongside Doctors without Borders and a portion of the instruments made were to be given, free of charge, to that organisation. They never told me that was what they planned to do but once I found out I lowered the price of the steel."

"Because of the Doctors without Borders arrangement?" she asks.

"Yes," I say simply. "I liked the idea that some of what I produced would go to helping others instead of making men like me even more rich than we already are."

"That's a good thing," she says softly.

"I thought so too, at first," I agree. "And had the original sale contract documents had the lower price on them from the start none of this would've happened," I sigh.

"That's where I get stuck," she says as she leans over the desk a little. "How did such a good thing turn into this mess?"

"The law says that I have to disclose who I'm selling to if they are an overseas company," I tell her, pulling one of the documents from the pile beside my chair. I slide it across the table and point to the relevant piece of legislation. "There are whole offices full of faceless men in suits who sift through these contracts looking for signs of impropriety. Their sole focus is to catch guys like me selling seemingly innocuous materials to overseas companies who use them for no good."

"But your steel was going to make surgical instruments," she defends. "How is that using the steel for no good?"

"It isn't," I agree. "And that's exactly what the steel is going to be used for. Surgical instrumentation. And I can prove that," I tell her as I put yet another piece of paper in front of her. I give her a minute to read it and then continue. "The last little pieces of the deal were hammered out the first night you stayed here. That conference call was to confirm that all the contracts were in order and for the transfer of the deed of sale to be completed."

"So where did Jake get the idea that your steel is going to be turned into guns?" she asks.

"Out of his ass as usual," I mutter darkly. "As I said before, if the lowered price on the contracts had've been the _only_ price on the contracts he wouldn't have even known I was selling to this group. But it wasn't. We changed the price at the last minute and that raised a red flag in one of those offices full of those faceless little men."

"They looked into the deal more closely," she correctly deduces.

"Yes, they did," I confirm. "And that's fine because there's nothing shady about the deal at all. Alec, my head of finance, had all the correct forms and paperwork filled out and Alistair, the lawyer you met today, was well within the law to change the contract sale price as he did. It happens a lot when you're dealing with something that has to be pulled from the ground. Prices go up and down; contracts get changed at the last minute."

"So how did Jake make the leap between a changed contract price and you funding an arms race?"

"Because one of the directors of the buying company was stood down yesterday for publicly announcing his support for a group of rebels hell bent on overthrowing his government," I sigh.

"Fucking hell," she whistles. I watch her take a good, long gulp of her beer as she mulls over what I've said. She reaches forward for the newspaper and pulls it closer. "Surely that's libellous?" she asks, pointing to the bit where Jake insinuated that in selling the steel so cheaply to a company with a director who was a known sympathiser with illegal rebel forces I was throwing my support behind a coup.

"Damn straight it is," I tell her. "My personal lawyer is filing that with the courts as we speak."

"Good," is her only reply.

"I would never..." I begin but she holds up her hand for me to stop.

"I know that," she scoffs. "Jesus Edward, if I had even one percent of doubt about any of this, or you, I'd already be on a plane to Hawaii never to be seen again."

"Hawaii?" I asked, eyebrows raised.

"I've never been anywhere and I like the idea of the beaches," she shrugs, "but that's not the issue here."

"I'm so sorry," I tell her sadly.

"For what? Doing a humanitarian thing? For selling steel cheaply to help people? Oh yeah, you're a real bastard," she says sarcastically.

"No, not for that," I tell her. "For once again dragging your name into the mud alongside mine."

She laughs softly and runs her finger along the paper. "The former Equity Steel employees, now Cullen Enterprises employees, may begin to question just what the fun fair they attended last weekend was really designed to do," she reads verbatim from the article.

"The fair was coordinated and hosted at short notice by Isabella Swan, 26, the sister of Swan Catering and Events owner and operator Jasper Swan. Miss Swan is the former fiancé of Jacob Black - spokesperson for the National Conservation League and an outspoken opponent to the acquisition of Equity Steel by the larger conglomerate Cullen Enterprises – and is believed to be currently residing with Cullen Enterprises founder Edward Cullen, 37.

"Miss Swan has since left the employ of her brother and is currently enrolled in an Accountancy course at the University of Sydney," she reads. "What mud?" she asks me as she looks up from the paper. "Everything they printed about me is true."

I smile back, pleased that she isn't upset by any of it and giddy because she's just confirmed that we are basically living together.

"Keep reading," I ask of her as I rub at my stinging eyes. "There's implied mud in there and it pisses me off."

"Go and take your contacts out," she says firmly.

"I might need to make a statement later," I inform her, to which she raises her eyebrows. "It's time," I say simply.

"The time was years ago," she mumbles before drinking the last bit of her beer. "Go and take your contacts out, I'll grab us another beer each and then I'll keep reading. To find the implied mud," she laughs.

"I can't have another drink if I have to make a statement," I tell her as I get to my feet.

"Oh for Christ's sakes, Edward," she snarls, "you've just basically been called a rebel sympathiser! I think you have the right to unwind a bit, don't you?"

"Pour me a scotch then," I chuckle before kissing her on the top of her head and leaving the office.

**BPOV**

As soon as he was gone I was off. Running down the stairs two at a time, skidding across the wooden floors in the kitchen. Through the arch, down the stairs, down another set of stairs and then I bash on the only door at the end of a short hall.

Seth opened it, took one look at me there with my finger to my lips to tell him to be quiet, and then he ushered me inside, shutting the door behind me.

"I need a favour," I tell him quietly.

"He can't hear you down here," he tells me with a wink.

"Good," I mumble, still trying to catch my breath from the running. "I need you to get Jake Black over here."

He eyes me cautiously, studying my face carefully. "I'm owed a lot of favours in this town but hiding a body isn't one of them," he says without the hint of it being a joke.

I shudder at the thought of what he was really capable off then shook my head. "No, god Seth, you scare the shit out of me sometimes," I tell him. "I want him to come here so that I can find out what the fuck he's playing at and why."

"You think this new story is linked to what Tanya's trying to pull?" he asks.

"No idea but I'd like to find out. Maybe it's not linked. After all, Jake's hated Edward for a decade so this might just be his latest attempt to get under his skin. But if they two things are linked I want to know. Don't you?"

"I do," he agrees. "Jared!" he calls and when the younger guy sticks his head around the corner he gives him the nod that they were going on a jaunt. "Tell the boss we're going out for a meeting. He won't ask what meeting. But tell him he's to stay indoors, and so are you."

"Deal," I tell him thankfully.

"If I can convince him to come here I need your word that there won't be any violence. He'd love that and there's not a thing I can do about him going to the press with the story if he leaves here with a black eye."

"I give you my word. And I'll do my best to stop Edward hitting him too," I agree.

"You know, if he comes here, he'll use the visit to his own advantage at some point, right?" Jared pipes up.

"I know. But it might be worth it to get some answers," I shrug.

"Worth a shot," Seth agrees. "Alright. You get upstairs before he twigs that you're down here. We'll be back as soon as we can."

I run back up the stairs, grab a beer for myself and pour Edward a glass of scotch and then I dash back up the stairs to the office.

He's already there. His glasses are back on his nose and he's got that nose buried in a stack of pages. I set his glass by his hand and sit back down opposite the desk.

"This is what pisses me off most about shit like this," he hisses and begins to read from the article. "Sources report that employees were promised that their jobs were safe by CEO of Cullen Enterprises Edward Cullen, but warned that retooling of machines, upgrades and restructuring of their processes was required to make the smelting works more competitive. Who the fuck is the source?" he hisses before continuing reading.

"There are no plans or publicly available information about what specific retooling will be conducted. That's bullshit for a start. I have to provide those plans, and all the specifics, to the government before I'm allowed to lift a finger.

"Cullen is notoriously tight lipped about his in house processes but the documents must now be made public in order for Mr Cullen to prove he isn't having innocent Australian steel workers producing stainless steel for use in weapons construction. Of course I'm tight lipped about processes," he snarls. "The technology changes so fucking fast in these places that every one of my competitors is trying to stay ahead of me!"

"Does the law say you have to provide the plans for processes, or just retooling?" I ask.

"Both. And I do. And I have. Listen to this bit," he growls. "A source close to Mr Cullen reported that in his welcome speech to the former Equity Steel employees at the weekend his intention to double the output of the factory, to double the size of the workforce by the end of the financial year was met with cheers. Has to be from the original journalist. Bastard," he hissed.

I reach for the paper then, taking a turn to read out the pieces of the article that piss me off the most. "This begs the question: Is there a correlation between Edward Cullen's deadline to increase output at the former Equity Steel site and the timeline the rebel forces have set down to topple their government? Who begged that fucking question? It's like asking is there a correlation between Donald Trump's hair and global warming," I snort indelicately. "How the hell do they come to the conclusion that you vaguely mentioning making the Gladstone plant viable by the end of the financial year is parallel to some group of militant, extremist rebels wanting to seize control of their government?" I ask.

"I know, right?" he seethes, though his choice of language makes him seem a lot younger than he is, and hotter than should be legal. "How the fuck would I know when a rebel group is planning to instigate a coup? In a country I don't live in? Using weapons I know nothing about?"

"This last bit makes me want to smack someone," I growl. "Jake is quoted in this bit," I tell him before running my finger along the lines to find the bit I want. "Here. An independent enquiry should be held to establish any possible links Mr Cullen, and in turn Cullen Enterprises, has with directors of companies whose interests lie with anti government organisations, Mr Black stated when asked for direct comment. God he's such an asshole," I hiss.

"Alistair said something interesting about that this morning," he tells me with a grin. "He said if I buy a sack of potato's from a supermarket, take them home and make a still to turn them into vodka and that still blows up in my face and I'm injured, can I sue the supermarket for supplying the potato's?"

He's posed it as a question to me so I think on it a second. "Of course you can't," I guess. "But I'm a student accountant, not a student lawyer," I point out.

"It's not a question of the law, its common sense," he grins. "And that you have in spades."

"Smooth, Cullen," I tease, "You're so fucking smooth."

"I was a coward," he says quietly, his tone and mood shifting perceivably.

"When?" I ask before taking another sip from my beer.

"This morning. When I read the article I thought you'd ditch me. I was convinced that you'd never let me explain and I'd have lost you."

"I told you, you kissed me, my reputation as an innocent, virginal princess is now kaput," I shrug cheekily. "You're stuck with me now I'm afraid, although you might not be too pleased with me shortly."

"How so?" he asks, cocking his head to the side and eyeing me carefully. I'd timed my confession perfectly. A bell went off somewhere and he flinched. "Fucking gate buzzer. The press has been pushing on it all afternoon."

"That might be Seth and Jared coming back," I say very carefully.

"Coming back from where?" he asks slowly.

"An errand," I hedge.

"Are they bringing pizza?" he asks but there's no smile on his face.

"No, I hope they're bringing a dirty, rotten bastard," I tell him through gritted teeth.

**EPOV**

I stared at her across the desk and wondered what the fuck I'd gotten _myself_ into getting mixed up with _her_. Since I'd been introduced to her I'd thought it was me being bad for her but just then, when I put two and two together and realised what it was she was telling me, I thought that just maybe she might be bad for me.

"Tell me you did not invite Jacob Black to my home, Isabella," I pled as I lowered my head into my hands and rubbed my temples.

"I didn't," she said very quietly. "I sent Seth and Jared to collect him. I didn't invite him. I demanded he appear."

I look through my crisscrossed fingers at her and see that she's grinning. She's fucking insane I think as I take a deep breath and sit up in my seat.

"You ordered my men to collect my enemy and bring him to my private residence?" I asked, still not quite sure why I hadn't kicked her out on her ass yet.

"I did," she said frankly. "And before you start yelling, or throw something," she said with a scowl, "hear me out."

"I'm listening but you haven't got long," I tell her as I hear the front door close.

"We want answers and he's got them. I know he has. I'd recognise his stink on something like what's happening to us a mile away. He fooled me when I went to see him with Jasper, but I know that this article is only the tip of his involvement.

"And, I asked the guys to bring him here because there's no CCTV, no recording devices, you can close every door, every blind and you can have this out naked, with the lights turned off if you want and the press will never know what was said and done here," she said seriously, even though she'd just thrown my own words back in my face rather cheekily.

I stare at her for a moment and consider what she's said. It's a good plan I just don't want to admit it. "Fine," I tell her. "But if the story that accompanies the pictures the press just got of him walking up my driveway says we're best friends now, or colluding on something shady I'm going to kick his ass, then yours," I warn.

"Oooh, Mr Cullen," she purrs as she gets to her feet and comes around my side of the desk. "Does that mean you'll spank me if I'm naughty?" she giggles as she turns my chair to face her and then settles herself across my lap. "Don't pout," she whispers against my lips before kissing me softly. "Please don't be angry with me. I just want this over with so we can get on with whatever this is between us," she whispers before licking my bottom lip.

"What is this between us?" I moan as she kisses her way from my lips to my ear.

"Perfect," she purrs into my ear and I feel my entire body shudder beneath her.

"You're the devil," I tell her as I take her face into my palms and pull her mouth to mine roughly. "And I am angry at you, but I'll forgive you if this goes well," I tell her as I stand, taking her with me, and putting her back on her feet.

The knock sounds at the door and I feel her hand slip into mine at my side. "I promised Seth there wouldn't be any violence," she whispers and I jolt.

"Shit," is all I've got time to utter as the doors to my office open and Seth ushers Jake into my personal space.

I hadn't actually laid eyes on the prick in years, probably a decade actually. He looked older but the same. His suit was classic black and his hair was slicked back like it had been all those years ago.

"Cullen," he sneered as he came to stand opposite my desk.

"Black," I sneered back and felt Isabella squeeze my hand hard. "What?" I ask as quietly as I can, "you said no violence you didn't say I had to be nice."

"Mr Cullen?" Seth asks as he stands by the door.

I understand his formality and what he's asking. "I'll call you," I tell him as I take my seat and Isabella moves around my desk and tugs on a chair until she's sitting at the side of the desk. "Have a seat," I tell Jake.

"You're looking good, Bell's," he smiles and I want to punch his face in for addressing her in any way.

"It's Isabella," she says, her voice polite but her expression warning and I suppress a smile as best I can.

"That's out the way," he sneers. "Now, what do you want?" he asks me.

"Answers," I tell him as I slide the paper across the desk and stab at the article with my finger. "You and I both know this is all bullshit. We also both know I can prove it. So the question is, Jake, what do you want?"

He sits back and steeples his fingers in his lap. "I don't know its bullshit. I was just relaying what I'd been told in confidence."

"By whom?" Isabella asks before I can.

"I cannot reveal their names," he grins, his teeth gleaming, making him look like a sinister mob boss in his black suit. "It would be unethical of me to divulge my source, you understand."

"I'm surprised you know what ethics are," Isabella mutters.

"What is it you want from me?" I ask again.

He balks minutely but I catch it. "You have nothing I want," he sneers, barely concealing his glance at Isabella.

"I doubt that very much," I mutter in response but press on. "How did you know about the director being stood down before I did?"

"A reliable source told me."

"When?"

"Obviously before yours told you," he grins.

"I wasn't told at all because I didn't need to be. The director being fired is nothing to do with this deal, Jake, and you know it."

"You don't think the public, and the office of Fair Trade, don't need to know that a director of a company you're exporting to is involved in an underground rebellion?" he asks.

"I have no problem with anyone knowing that information," I tell him honestly and see the fire go out of his eyes just a little at the revelation. "You see," I say as I lean forward a little, "I'm all for public disclosure. I have no problem with it because I don't do anything illegal and I never will.

"So no, I'm happy that the public and Fair Trade office are aware of the directors association with a rebel faction because it means absolutely nothing to me. Nor does it have anything to do with the deal I brokered. I'm sure every company in every country on the planet has someone who sympathises with one group or another, no matter their cause.

"It's called free will, Jake. He was stood down. Not by me or any government agency but by his own company. So it's all out there as a matter of public record now."

"A fine argument," he concedes, still grinning. "You'd have made a fine lawyer. I always thought so," he laughs. "So if you can prove that your deal is legitimate you've got nothing to worry about. You'll be investigated and cleared if you're right so what am I doing here?"

"What is your problem with me personally?" I ask out of the blue.

I catch the muscle beside his right eye twitch but as soon as it does he recovers and sits up to smooth down his tie before answering. "I don't have a problem with you personally," he says evenly.

"You've spent the last ten years dogging me," I point out as calmly as I can.

"I'm just doing my job," he shrugs.

"No Jake, you've spent the last ten years dogging me personally. Not professionally. Why?" I demand.

"Your ego knows no bounds," he sneers.

"He's right," Isabella says firmly. "The whole time we were together you never had a nice word to say about him. And it was never professional, it was personal. Why Jake?" she pleads.

He gets to his feet then. Maybe to hide his reaction to her words, maybe to give himself some thinking time, I wasn't sure which. Isabella raised her eyebrows at me and then we both watched him move to the windows, lace his hands behind his back and stare outside.

He's so tall now I find myself thinking. When I knew him, before he decided he hated me, he'd been just a kid, like me. Gangly and awkward with his height just like I was. But now he was tall and lean and his suit was expensive and tailor made.

His shoes were Italian leather and shined to a mirror finish.

The mandarin collar on his shirt was starched and stood up perfectly despite it being more than halfway through the business day.

I looked at his hands still clasped behind his back and noted that his fingernails were polished. Clear varnish made them shine in the stream of sunlight coming in from the west.

I try and remember how he was at university and one image stuck out in my mind. A quiet, russet skinned boy with a girl in his arms, hidden away in a dark corner of a party. He had been kissing her passionately but he was staring at me as he did so.

I had always assumed that he'd been staring at me in triumph. That it was him kissing her, not me.

He turned then. Stared at first me and then Isabella for just a moment and then strode back to the chair opposite the desk.

I watched him straighten his cuffs and just then, after years of speculation and theory it all clicked. I got it. I understood him and what he was about.

"How long?" I asked, out of the blue, but he heard me.

"How long what?" he snarled as he straightened in the chair.

"How long have you known Tanya Denali?" I asked as calmly as I could.

He did well to try and hide his reaction to the name but I caught the split second of recognition on his face before he replied.

"Never heard of her," he said, teeth gleaming, game face back firmly in place.

"Oh come now," I scoffed. "Stupid doesn't suit you. Did you meet her while we were still at uni or is it more recent than that? After Isabella left you maybe?" I asked.

"What are you talking about?" Isabella asked.

I knew she wouldn't understand what I was getting at and right then I thought that might be a good thing. If my epiphany proved true this was quite possibly going to be very embarrassing for all three of us.

"Jake?" I nudged.

He stared at us both in turn for a moment and then turned back to me. "A long time," he muttered.

"Does she know?" I asked plainly and I saw him stiffen just slightly.

"Does she know what?" he asked, playing dumb again.

"This will take all day if you keep repeating my questions to buy yourself time to answer and I'm a busy man," I snarl. "Does she know that you're planning to shaft her at the end?"

"I wouldn't shaft her with your..." he hissed before catching himself from tacking 'dick' on the end, and I knew then that I was right.

"What's going on?" Isabella asked as she looked between us.

"Jake has been working with Tanya in all this," I tell her simply. "Isn't that right, Jake?" I ask but don't bother waiting for him to deny it. His guilt was now plain for me to see. "But he's not interested in the terms as originally set out, are you Jake? His plan was to use her for his own end and once she'd done all the dirty work he could swoop in and claim his prize."

"That's a lie," he raged but the sting had gone out of him.

"I don't understand," Isabella said quietly as she watched the same panic flit across Jake's face as I did. "Do you know Tanya?" she asked him flat out. His nod was minute. "Are you helping her to do this to Edward?" she asked.

"No," he hissed. "I'm helping her do this to you," he spat.

I wanted to smile to myself because I'd been right but even I could see how much this next part was going to hurt Isabella so I kept my features as neutral as possible.

"Why?" she asked, predictably. "We were together before, Jake. You had me, we were going to be married and we were happy for a long, long time. You fucked our relationship up Jake. You. Not me. So if you're helping her to do this to me so that we'll get back together you've got fucking rocks in your head," she said defiantly.

I was so proud of her but also desperately sorry for what she was about to learn. I watched Jake's face and knew that he was about to punch another hole in her self esteem but there was nothing I could do about it, it had to happen.

"I don't want _you_," he hissed.

"Then why are you helping her do this? I know you don't like him but I never understood why. Why does it help you, to help her?" she asked and it was a logical assumption to make. She assumed he was helping so Tanya could have me and Jake himself could have her. Unfortunately she was wrong.

"She wants him," he snarled, tossing his head in my direction.

"I don't understand," Isabella told him, her brows creased deeply. "If you don't want me, but she wants him, why are you helping her? What's in it for you to help her get Edward?" she asked again.

"She can't have him," Jake hissed and then his eyes got very, very wide when he realised what he'd said.

I watched, helpless, as Isabella joined the dots. She was so clever it didn't take but a moment. "Oh my god," she whimpered as she covered her mouth with her hand. "It's you," she whispered to him. "You want him. For yourself. Oh my god. You're helping her because she wants Edward, but you want him too. You're planning to double cross her."

"That's a fucking lie," he bellowed as he got to his feet. "You're a fucking lying whore," he roared.

"Watch it," I warned as I too stood. "You watch your language and you check your temper," I tell him. "It's not a lie. You tell her the truth or I will," I warn.

The fight went out of him then. Whether it was my warning or that Isabella hadn't cowered from him like she used to I couldn't be sure. But whatever it was he knew he was beat.

"Fuck," he hissed and turned his back on us both.

"Tell me," Isabella demanded while I retook my seat.

"I've known her as long as you have," he said quietly and I took that to mean me, as Isabella had never met Tanya before the altercation at her apartment.

"I don't remember you from that far back," I tell him, thinking back on my childhood for some scrap of memory that I could place him in before university.

"I know," he said almost sadly, I thought. "You never saw me. You always looked right through me," he said as he turned back around. "You and your posh friends never noticed the poor, scrawny black kid."

"But you introduced yourself to me the first day of classes at university," I remind him. "I remember it."

"My mother was a teacher at our high school," he almost whimpers. "I was allowed to go there cheap because she was a teacher there," he says. "You never saw me. You never spoke to me. You never saw me," he repeated as though he'd lost control of his thought processes.

I could see the pain on his face but he was right, I'd never noticed him. I didn't remember him from high school, just university. "Okay, so I didn't see you or speak to you, I don't remember Tanya doing either of those things either," I point out.

"I hate that fucking bitch," he hissed and I didn't blame him.

I tried not to outright hate anyone but Tanya was a special case. "She paid me to tutor her all through the eleventh and twelfth grades," he says, eyes blazing. "You were much, much smarter than she was but she was determined to get into the same schools as you so she paid me, the invisible one, to help her get into your classes. I made a fortune off her," he laughed coldly as though he'd had a significant win making money off a girl as desperate for my attention as he was.

"She wasn't dumb, just unfocused," he conceded. "And totally obsessed with you," he hissed, pointing squarely at me. "I figured by helping her I could help myself get into university because she really did pay well, that trust fund of hers was huge," he chuckled darkly.

"So I tutored her, got her good enough grades to get into your school and I did the same. You went on your family's dollar, I went on hers," he grinned. "Some of the best work I ever did had her name printed on the top when she handed it in as hers," he laughs. "I should petition the university to give me a second degree, I fucking earned one doing all her work."

"That's fucked up," Isabella mumbled but I doubted Jake heard her he was so lost to his own memories.

"I did introduce myself to you on the first day of classes," he agrees smiling wistfully. "I figured we were finally on equal footing, you and me. A new start. Old alliances lost, small fishes in the big pond again. But nothing changed," he growled. "You still didn't fucking notice me!"

"We only had one class together," I counter. "And there were a hundred of us in it."

"And you were brilliant in it," he whispers and I cringe. It seemed a little creepy to be complimented by him now, now that I'd worked out what his angle was. "But Tanya struggled with it, she never did quite grasp the fundamentals of the law," he grinned but this time it was sinister.

"You did though," I spat, thinking about how he'd done his level best to drop me in it over the Asia deal.

"Yeah," he grinned, "I am quite good at it, aren't I?"

"You kept tutoring her?" Isabella asked, and I wanted to thank her for diverting the conversation away from that.

"Yeah, she had money to burn and she was desperate to stay in that class with him," he said nodding towards me. "So I took her money and I got her through that class. And then she dropped a bomb on me. She told me that the two of you were going to get married after graduating. That you were betrothed to her," he said as though it was a nasty word.

"It was lies," Isabella whispers in my defence.

"I know that now," he spits. "The stupid fucking bitch is psychotic," he said, telling me something I already knew. "But I believed her back then because I had no reason not to and it sounded like something your uppity, snotty families would do."

"This isn't the eighteenth century," I tell him with roll of my eyes for good measure.

"Yeah, well, I believed it back then."

"You stopped helping her, didn't you?" I ask, joining more dots in my head. "She failed that class, and a couple of others too, and she dropped out of school before I graduated."

He laughed then. "Yeah, she couldn't cut it on her own and she was not amused when I pulled the plug."

"But you're helping her again now," Isabella pointed out.

"Two birds, one stone," he shrugged.

"How so?" she asked before I could.

"Oh come on Bella, you're smarter than this," he said patronisingly.

"You were a tool," I tell her gently, sorry that I had to point it out so brutally. She cocks her head to the side and I watch as realisation dawns on her sad face. "I'm sorry," I tell her softly.

"I know you are," she whispers, gracing me with a magnificent smile before turning back to Jake. "You're gay," she says to him matter of factly, making him cringe as though he were ashamed of it. "You used me to see if you could be straight. You used me to get yourself into the League because you needed a wife and a family."

"Prove it," he grinned smugly.

"I don't need to," she grins back instantly. "You mean nothing to me. It doesn't matter to me if you are or aren't gay and it doesn't matter to me if you're in the League or not. I've got everything I want and need right here," she says, sweeping her hand towards me.

I can't help the smug grin on my face then. She was magnificent and I'd won.

"Why didn't you see me?" Jake asked of me then, very quietly.

"I didn't see you when we were younger because I was an egotistical, self absorbed teenager. Just like every other guy you went to school with," I tell him straight up. "I didn't see you at university because we only had one class together, didn't socialise in the same groups and you needled me in that class and publicly any chance you got.

"Which is why I don't care to see you now, by the way. To me you're just a buzzing gnat that bothers me sometimes. I enjoy swatting you back and you enjoy antagonising me in the press any chance you get."

"It's to get your fucking attention!" he roars.

"Message received," I snarl at him. "I'm not a homophobe, Jake," I tell him sincerely because I wasn't. "If you'd have told me you were gay, or gave me some indication that you liked me that way, I could've told you that I was straight and we could've moved on. Maybe we'd have been friends, who knows?" I shrug. "But you never said a word. You did your thing, I did mine."

"I saw you with women," he said very quietly and I cringed.

I'd never lied to Isabella, never told her I'd been celibate, and like all young men I'd had my fair share of dates, but I didn't want to rub her nose in that. I also knew that Jake would enjoy hurting her with it. So I told it my way before he could tell it his.

"Of course you did," I tell him calmly. "I was a normal university student. I dated. I slept with women. But you never told me you were gay, or that you were interested in me, so I won't apologise if it upset you that I had relationships with women."

"I watched you with them. I watched you date them and toss them aside. I watched you let them crawl all over you and touch you," he shouted as though it was wrong of me to be touched by a woman.

"I didn't toss anyone aside, Jake," I sigh, trying to keep things calm. "I went on dates with women and for whatever reasons at the time we didn't gel so we broke up. That's normal. Again, I won't apologise if that upset you because I had no idea that it did and really it wasn't any of your business. And it isn't any of your business now," I remind him.

"I dated them all after you were done with them," he mutters and I cringe again.

"That's sick," Isabella hisses and I agree.

"It was the only way I could feel close to you," he stammers. "To take your discarded toys," he grins, to himself mostly, I hope.

"That's disgusting," I tell him. "But it doesn't matter now, I've found who I want," I say firmly.

"You always get what you want," he whines.

"Because I'm willing to work hard for it," I roar, fed up to the back teeth with his self deprecating. "I don't really give a fuck about things that happened fifteen years ago, Jake. I care that you're consorting with Tanya to fucking ruin me in the press!"

"I never wanted to ruin you!" he roars right back at me. "I just wanted to get your fucking attention! Christ," he swears as he begins to pace. "Why haven't you been listening to me? I don't want to ruin you. I love you! I always have! I love that you're so successful but I want to be a part of it with you. I'm proud of you. You've achieved so much, come so far. I've followed every move you've made since graduation. I've watched you rise and rise and you never once took any notice of me!

"You never even made a statement. In all the years I've been baiting you, just waiting and hoping that you'd call me, ask me why I kept hammering away at you in the press, you never said a fucking word!

"You have any idea how frustrating that's been?" he asked as his pacing sped up. "To keep working as hard as I have been to find things to get into print just to get you to call me on it? Just with the hope that you'd fight back and give me the chance I needed to meet with you?

"But you never once said a fucking thing. You never defended yourself. You never said a bad word about me in the press in retaliation and that just made me want you more!

"And then _she_ came along," he sneered in Isabella's direction, "And suddenly I'm worthy of a meeting."

"That's enough," I say as calmly as I can manage under the circumstances. "I've heard enough," I tell him firmly. "I don't think there is anything left for us to talk about, Jake. We're done here. In fact, we're done everywhere," I say matter of factly.

"But..." he stammers, moving slightly towards me, hands out in front of himself.

"No buts," I tell him. "You need to leave now. You'll hear from my lawyer soon enough," I tell him whilst pressing the concealed alarm button under the lip of my desk. I didn't fear him but I wanted him gone now and pressing the button was the quickest way to get Seth in here. I had my answers, I knew why now, so now he had to leave.

"It's not illegal to be gay," he protests and once again I know that he's smarter than that, he's just reeling from being made to admit it to me and to Isabella and because having done so he'd gotten nowhere.

"I know it isn't," I say quietly, wanting him gone and the meeting over now. "But we have nothing more to say to each other," I tell him, sweeping my hand outwards to include Isabella in the statement as I got to my feet. "And as we're going to be on opposite sides of a courtroom fairly soon I don't think it's a good idea for you to still be here."

"You're suing me?" he asked, his eyebrows raised. "What for?"

"You didn't think you could tell the press that he's funding an international militia and not be expected to be sued for the lie, did you?" Isabella laughs, though it's forced. She comes to me, stands at my side, and slips her hand into mine with a squeeze.

"You'll lose," he warns me, grinning now. "I chose my words very carefully when I made that statement. Tanya might have failed that class but as you so carefully pointed out earlier, I didn't."

"I don't care if I lose," I tell him matter of factly, grinning myself now. "I'm so wealthy I can afford to lose, pay my lawyer, and yours, your costs and whatever settlement deemed appropriate by a judge and do it all with a smile on my face, just to watch you explain to that judge what your vendetta is all about."

"You can't use someone's sexual orientation to prove yourself in a libel lawsuit," he quips, probably convinced he had me.

"I passed that class too, Jake," I laugh. "I don't need to use your sexual orientation to prove my case. I'm not funding a militia and I can prove _that_. But I will mention that you're gay, make it clear that the reason you dog me at every turn is to get my attention, and that my rejection of you is the reason you continue to defame me publicly. Win or lose you spend the next ten years defending yourself in the press, not me."

I heard him mutter that I was a bastard at the same time as I heard the knock on my office door. I call for Seth to come in and he does, looking pretty intimidating in his black suit and tie.

"You're leaving, Mr Black," he says instantly to Jake. It wasn't a request. "Alright Bella?" he asks the lovely woman at my side who confirms that she's just fine. "I'll escort Mr Black to his office and be right back, Mr Cullen," he says formally to me as he holds the door open for Jake.

His parting words were meant to hurt her but once again he failed. "You don't deserve him," he hissed at her as he took up his briefcase and moved to the door Seth held.

"I know," she said sweetly before kissing me on the cheek. "I didn't deserve you either," she says, the irony dripping from her lips expertly.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading. **

**Please review. **


	13. Chapter 13

**BPOV**

We're left standing in the office silently and are both more than a little stunned.

There hadn't been time to mentally process everything we'd learned as we learnt it so now that we were alone it hit us both full force.

Edward was the first to break. He tore his hand out of mine and swore under his breath as he made his way to the windows. I watched as he took off his glasses and threw them onto the floor at his feet. He placed both hands on the glass and then leant forward, letting his forehead smack against it.

I watched his shoulders raise and lower rapidly and I knew what I was witnessing because I suffered the same kind of anxiety symptoms as he was experiencing now.

I gave a quick thought as to why I wasn't mentally spinning out of control like he was but put it out of my mind as I watched Edward fall apart.

I didn't rush to him, knowing that could actually make the panic attack worse if I invaded his space abruptly, so I moved slowly and carefully until I was behind him. I put the palm of my hand to his lower back and didn't take offence when he flinched away.

"Shhh," I coo softly as I begin to rub in small circles. I keep making the same low, soothing sound as I rub. He flinches a few more times before he's comfortable with that contact and once he is I slide my hand upwards to the base of his neck and dig my fingers in a little.

He groans at first, trying to push his forehead further into the glass to avoid my touch but I know this posture, I know these responses, so I don't take that personally either.

"It's okay," I soothe as I raise my other hand and start digging both thumbs into his neck and shoulders. "Breathe more deeply," I advise gently knowing he'd hate being told how to stave off an attack just like I did when it was happening to me. "Breathe with me," I instruct and slow the movement of my thumbs so they match the rhythm of my inhales and exhales.

It doesn't take long before he's matched his breathing to mine and I start to feel the tension loosening in his shoulders. Another minute passes and then his hips loosen too and he's buckling towards the windowsill. I let him go. He won't fall. He's steady on his feet. He'd just been holding his body rigid while his brain swam with all the new information.

"Such a mess," he's mumbling to himself as I move a little closer and spread my fingers over the width of his back to knead away some of the tension he's holding there.

"Nothing that can't be fixed," I whisper as I rub harder and harder.

He pushes away from the glass and slides his hands over mine on his shoulders. I think he's settling, getting control of his anxiety but instead of him squeezing my hands softly he grips them, pulls them away from himself and then lets them go.

He turns, his face a mask of pain and nothing like the in-control man who'd just conducted an interrogation. He stares at me long and hard before he says something that makes my stomach clench. "Jared will take you home."

His voice is hard and flat. I feel like I've been dismissed. He turns his back to me again and puts his forehead to the glass once more.

I stare at him a moment, willing him to turn around so that I can see his eyes but he's not moving. He's just standing there with his head up against the cool glass. His hips tense and his knees locked again.

"If that's what you want," I whisper through a fast thickening throat.

He doesn't answer. I can't gauge anything from the tone of his voice because he's silent. I feel the tears coming so I'm quick to rush to the door. I let it shut behind me as it will and then I'm running down the stairs calling for Jared. He appears not ten seconds after I scoop up my backpack.

"Take me home," I croak as I make my way to the front door.

"I'll just tell the..." he gets out before I stop him.

"He doesn't want me here," I tell him flatly.

"Then I'll take you home," he says quietly before coming up beside me and opening the door. "Dry your eyes," he tells me firmly and I understand that he's not unsympathetic to whatever is going on for me, just reminding me that the press will photograph me crying if I go outside like I am.

"Okay," I tell him after one last sniff.

"Head up," he reminds me as we walk quickly towards the car.

I slide into the backseat and do up my seatbelt. He takes his place behind the wheel, checks on me just once in the rear view mirror and then we're off down the driveway.

The press are screaming at the car as we pass through the gate and I can only imagine what sort of spectacle Jake gave them as he was driven away by Seth.

"Fucking parasites," Jared hisses as he turns left into the street.

I say nothing. There's nothing to say. He knows I agree with his assessment but there's no fight left in me to voice it.

We go through the same routine when we pull up to my building. I dry my eyes again, lift my chin and walk with my head held high into the foyer. Stanley has replaced Ethan by now and I wait silently as Jared checks in with him. Jared pushes the button for my floor and then stands in front of me while the carriage takes us up.

He walks me to my door, asks me if I need anything and waits while I tell him no. He wishes me a good evening and reminds me that Tyler will be coming on duty if I need anything after six pm. I thank him and close the door on him.

"I guess it can't be fixed," I moan as I sink to my knees.

**EPOV**

I press the bell on the door and wait for my mother to let me in. I swipe at my lip with my sleeve and am grateful it's no longer bleeding.

The door opens and mom looks giddy at the prospect of a family dinner with me finally bringing a girl along. I hate that I've let her down, again.

The shock on her face as she gets a look at me is enough to tell me how much the black eye had darkened on the short drive from my home to hers.

"What's happened?" she asks as she drags me inside by the sleeve before poking her head out the door and looking around. "Where's Seth? And where's Bella?"

"I drove myself," I tell her.

"Alright," she says cautiously, eyeing me closely, knowing that I rarely went anywhere without Seth in tow anymore. "Are you alright?"

"Never better," I mumble and shove my hands in my pockets so she doesn't see them shaking.

I see the slight panic on her face but can't bring myself to tell her how badly I'd fucked up. There is nothing worse than that look of pure disappointment a mother can settle on her face and I don't want to see it now.

"Rosie's here with the children," she tells me softly and I wonder why. "But Emmett's been held up at the office."

"Yeah," I say because it was my fault he was held up. "Dad home?" I ask flatly.

"In his study," she tells me as she steps closer and lifts my hair off my face. She stares at my eye a moment and then her eyes travel downwards to my mouth. "How did this happen?" she asks.

"Because I'm stupid," I mumble as I bat her hands away. "I'll be up with dad," I tell her as I walk away.

I wait at the door to be told I could go into his study but the instant I'm through the door he's on his feet. His practised surgeons eyes scan my face and body right away, searching for other signs of damage.

"Sit," he tells me sternly and I do as I'm told. I watch him take his bag up off the floor, sit it on his desk and open it. He's got gauze and antiseptic in his fingers in seconds.

I let him dab at my lip and try not to wince as the alcohol burns.

He shines a penlight into my blackened eye and asks if I'm seeing double or if my vision is blurred. I remind him that he's taken my glasses off as an answer.

He asks to see my hands once he's satisfied my eye is just bruised and I hold them out in front of myself, unable to hide the shaking now. He doesn't comment as he dabs more antiseptic onto my split knuckles.

"Anything else?" he asks as he throws the used gauze into the bin at his feet.

"No," I mumble just loud enough to be heard.

"Drink?" he asks.

"I drove myself," I inform him by way of declining the offer.

He pours himself one and brings it from the bookshelf, where he hides it from mom, to his desk and sits. "Is the other guy alright?" he asks.

"He'll live," I tell him.

Before we can say anything else my mother knocks delicately and pokes her head in through the door. "Will I put your plates in the oven?" she asks subtly.

My dad raises his eyebrows at me and I nod. "Thank you, dear," he tells my mother. "He's fine," he nods and she closes the door again. "Aren't you?" he asks me once we're alone again.

"I don't know," I say quietly.

"Do you want to tell me what this is all about?" he asks as he sips his drink.

"I fucked up," I tell him straight up. He doesn't say anything in reply. He simply sits, nursing his drink in his hand and waits me out. I run a hand through my hair and sigh heavily while I try and sort out what I'm going to say.

I decide to start at the beginning. I tell him when I first laid eyes on Isabella Swan, how I'd seen her dancing all alone that night. I explain how horrid I'd been to her at the fun fair and how I'd begged her to dance with me there.

I tell him how she'd slapped me then forgiven me for it all after the first picture and its accompanying story hit the papers.

I tell him she's been with me ever since. How strong she's been with the press. How wonderful she is to be near. How she makes me smile and want to ditch work just to laze around on my new squishy sofa all afternoon.

I tell him how Seth and I worked out that it was Tanya behind the press problem, how it was Isabella who'd worked out that Jake had something to do with it.

I tell him about the piece in the Financial Review that morning, how none of it was true and about how I'd tried to keep it from Isabella. I tell him that she worked it out for herself, because she's so fucking smart, and I admit to him that it turns me on that she is.

I tell him how she arranged for Seth to collect Jake and then I told him all about what was said in my office at my home once he arrived.

He listens silently to everything I have to say and when I'm finished he gets up and pours himself another drink before sitting back down in his chair.

"That's quite a tale," he says, finally.

"I know," I sigh.

"And I understand everything you've told me so far, but what I still don't understand is how you've arrived in my home with a cut lip a black eye and looking like you're about to cry," he says evenly.

I swipe at my eyes with the back of my sleeve and stave off the next panic attack as best I can. I can feel the heat rising in my gut and the pounding in my ears beginning. It's as though the harder I think about suppressing it the faster it comes over me.

I lean over a little and put my head on the desk, drawing in gulps of breath like a starving man.

"You're still suffering?" he asks, referring to the crippling attacks I'd had all my life when I'm stressed beyond breaking point.

"Less so," I manage to tell him as my chest and thighs give up their constricting hold and I can breathe a little easier again.

"You'll see someone for it," he tells me, rather than advises me. "Have your medication adjusted."

I ignore the direction and I push myself forward backwards, hanging my head between my knees as far as I can manage in the office chair. I draw in slow, deep breaths and try to ignore the voice in my head that's berating me for shaking off Isabella's help during the last attack.

"Where is Bella right now?" he asks carefully.

I don't lift my head as I answer. "At her own home," I manage to croak.

"She left?" he asks and I can hear the disappointment in his voice without needing to look up and see it on his face too.

"I sent her away," I admit as I sit back up, the worst of my symptoms subsiding a little and at least allowing me to talk normally.

"I don't understand," he says simply. "You told me she's been dealing remarkably well with all of this. The press scrutiny, your high profile and all that that brings, Jake's deception and Tanya's attempts to hurt you both. So why would you send her away after she's borne all that?"

I stand then, a little wobbly on my feet still, my eyesight fuzzy around the edges. "I sent her away before she insisted she leave on her own," I admit. "I couldn't handle it if she ditched me, alright?" I shout, ashamed of my cowardice. "I didn't want to hear her say that I'm not worth the trouble I've caused. It would crush me to hear her say that she can't deal with this," I tell him as I wave a hand down the length of my body.

"Has she given you any indication that she feels that way?" he asks calmly.

"How could she not feel that way?" I bark as I begin to pace a short, unsteady line behind the chair. "Her life's been opened up to public scrutiny simply because we danced together," I snarl through partly numb lips as I fight for oxygen. "Her nice, quiet life is a fucking mess and it's all because of me. She can't go to classes without people sniggering behind their hands at her. She can't step outside her house, or mine, without the press hounding her.

"She can't go shopping without a minder. She's afraid to sleep in her own home and there isn't a fucking thing I can do about it!" I bellow, my knees buckling a little. "And to top it all off, as if all that wasn't bad enough, she'd have to deal with me like this all the time."

He's up and beside me in an instant. He holds me up with an arm around my waist and after breathing along with me slowly for a moment he helps me back into the chair. He stands beside me, his hand on my shoulder, and talks me through getting my breathing under control.

He dashes out of the room but he's back quickly, a glass of cold water in his hand. I gulp it down gratefully, relieved that it's soothed my thickened throat.

When I'm feeling more in control, and can breathe at a normal pace, he goes back to his side of the desk. He takes another sip of his drink and thankfully doesn't scold me for the raised voice I'd used. "Has she asked you to do anything about her being hounded?" he asks calmly. "Has she asked you to make a statement? Has she asked you to do anything at all about the situation you both find yourselves in?"

I think on it before answering. "The only thing she's asked of me since I met her was for me to be honest."

"Have you been honest?" he asks.

"I have."

"Have you told her about your anxiety? About these attacks and how you deal with them? Were you honest about that?" he asks.

"I can't tell her," I moan unhappily into my hands.

"Then you haven't been honest," he states simply. "This is who you are, Edward. It's who you've always been. It's not a fault, there is no blame, and if she's as smart as you say she is then she'll understand."

"She'll think I'm weak. She'll hate having to deal with me when I'm like this. She'll want me to cut down my hours or install a manager or something because of the stress. I'll hate that and she'll resent me if I don't do it."

"You don't know any of that, it's all just assumptions," he says calmly. "What did she do when the attack began this afternoon?"

"She tried to help me," I admit.

"Did she?" he asks. "Did she actually help you or did she just try?"

"She did help for a bit but I pushed her away, made her leave so she wouldn't see it full blown," I admit sadly.

"Did it play out?" he asks, his doctors hat back firmly in place.

"It didn't, not fully," I admit. "But Seth was there."

"Do you think she sees you?" he asks, switching back to the original topic, and I squint at him because I don't understand the question. "Do you think she sees the real you? Not the image the press have presented?" he clarifies.

"Yes," I say sadly. "I've tried to show her."

"Except for your anxiety issues," he scolds gently and I nod my agreement. "So she knows you're highly strung, are a perfectionist, have control issues and hate to be wrong?" he asks.

It's hard to hear my short comings put into words from my father but I tell him yes, she does.

"And she stood beside you today in your office and told her ex-fiancé that it's you that she wants?"

I flick my eyes up to his quickly at that. "She did," I admit.

"And then you asked her to leave?"

"Yeah," I groan.

"For a genius you're a bit of an idiot," he chuckles.

"I just knew I couldn't hear her say she _wanted_ to leave, dad."

"I understand," he says simply and I'm left wondering what he understands because I'm starting to think I understand nothing at all. "You panicked about her reaction to your panic attack."

"I did," I admit.

"And it made it worse," he mumbles. "She might have stood in front of Jake and told him that it's you that she wants but Edward, son, she also stood in front of _you_ and told you the same thing. Can you see what I'm saying?" he asks.

"She told me it's me that she wants," I mumble to myself, letting the words roll around my mouth as well as my brain. "She wants me," I say again, as though I can't believe it for myself.

"Sounds like it," he grins, even though I hadn't asked his thoughts. "But you have to tell her everything and let her make an informed decision. Personally I don't think it's going to matter."

"You don't know that for sure," I argue.

"She's put up with all of the press issues, the loss of her privacy and with you," he chuckles, pointing at me across the desk, "and she's not run away screaming yet."

"She's not a screamer," I mumble before I can check the thought. "She's a pointer."

"Are you sleeping with her?" he asks, probably mistaking my comment for a reference to something sexual.

I feel my anger rise instantly, the red flush creeping up my chest and throat as I stare at him across the desk. "That's none of your god dammed business," I hiss.

"I know it's not," he grins, "but your answer tells me you are willing to protect her, and her reputation, no matter what."

"I am," I assure him, relieved that he doesn't want to discuss my sex life floods my system.

"Did you get into a fight protecting her?" he asks and I start to see what his line of questioning is about.

"No," I tell him sadly. "I got into a fight because I sent her home."

"Seth, Jared or Tyler?" he asks.

"Seth."

"Seth?" he asks, eyebrows raised and I nod. "He disagreed with your decision to send her home then?"

"You could say that," I mutter as I wipe my lip on my shirt sleeve again. "A few days ago I made the mistake of asking him to beat me about the head to knock some sense into me if I even looked like fucking things up with her."

"He's very literal," he chuckles and I throw him a scowl. "But very unprofessional," he adds in an attempt to save himself. "Did it work?" he asks.

"Did what work?"

"Did it knock some sense into you?"

"Emmett's at the office drafting two differing versions of my statement," I shrug.

"Is that an answer?" he chuckles.

"I don't know what you want me to say?" I bark as I get to my feet again. "Did I need sense knocked into me? Probably. Should I have given her all the information and then given her a choice to stay or go and faced her decision like a man? Probably."

"Are you in love with her?" he asks, catching me totally by surprise.

"Probably," I mumble as I sit back down.

His smile is a mile wide as he regards me over the desk. "Probably," he echo's quietly. "As I see it, if you want my opinion, you have two choices here."

"I'm listening," I tell him honestly.

"Option one is to come downstairs with me now and have dinner with your family and give her the night to mull over what's happened, or two, I sleep on the sofa tonight because I defend your decision to skip out on yet another family dinner."

"I bought a new sofa," I mumble stupidly.

"Is it comfortable?" he asks, grinning.

"Only when I share it," I whisper to myself but he hears me anyway. "Did mom make lasagne?"

"And garlic bread and that tangy salad dressing you like too," he teases evilly.

"I love that stuff," I mumble as I get to my feet. I check my watch, make a quick calculation and make my choice.

**BPOV**

"Emmett McCarty," he answers sternly.

"Em, it's Bella," I tell him.

"Hey Bell's," he says more cheerily. "What can I do for you at this hour on a Friday night? Hey, I thought you were having dinner at the Cullen's?"

"I was," I tell him and move on quickly so I don't have to explain why I'm not. "I need to ask you a question if you have the time?"

"Sure, shoot," he tells me.

"How do I go about making a statement to the press?" I ask gingerly.

"Why would you need to do that?" he asks slowly and cautiously.

"Because Jake's making Edward out to be a criminal and he isn't," I say simply.

"I admire your conviction," he says, "but any statement you make can only be personal opinion, not fact, and that would just inflame the situation more I'm afraid."

"But Edward's not done anything wrong. You know that as well as I do. I hate that Jake can say he has but I can't say he hasn't."

"I do know that," he agrees. "And Jake will pay for making that claim publicly, but it's better that you let the courts sort all that out."

"That'll take an age," I whine. "All the damage that can be done in the meantime isn't worth the wait."

"I agree. But even so, there is no weight you can add to Edward's case by making a public statement. It's best to let the professionals deal with it."

"So Jake gets to say anything he likes and Edward just has to wear it?"

"He doesn't have to wear it," he mutters darkly, "he chooses to wear it normally. But I'm at the office now drafting his responses and I'm hoping he'll let me run one of the versions we've got so far."

"Responses? Plural?" I ask.

"Hmm mmm," he replies noncommittally.

"Is there one where he calls Jake a motherfucker and one where he calls him an esteemed colleague?" I ask hopefully.

"Um, not exactly."

"Then what exactly do they say?"

"You might want to talk to Ed about that," he sighs.

"That's not gonna happen," I whisper as the tears begin again. "Thanks Em," I manage to say before I hang up and let my frustration overwhelm me, again.

Ten minutes later, after splashing my face with water and gulping down two aspirin tablets for my headache, I pick up the phone and dial the only man a girl can truly rely on to tell her the truth.

It rings twice before he answers and when he does all my most recent attempts to gain some composure go right out the window.

"Oh daddy," I wail into the handset.

**EPOV**

"I'm sorry we fought," I tell Seth as he holds open the car door for me twenty minutes later.

"Don't sweat it, kid," he chirps back as he swipes at his own cut lip before he shuts my door and gets into the driver's seat. "Sorry about that, too," he tells me with a nod towards my own, matching, split lip and black eye.

"Don't sweat it," I chuckle back as best I can. "I had it coming."

"Where are we heading?" he asks as he backs the car around and heads out of my driveway.

"Isabella's," I tell him firmly.

"You going to tell her everything?" he asks as he slows to a stop well before the gate. I nod that I am and he starts forward again. "Good," is all he says as we pass by the press.

"Emmett called me," I tell him as we turn into the street.

"Oh yeah?" he asks.

"Yeah. She called him about an hour ago. Said she wanted to know how to make a public statement."

"She's come to her senses and she's publicly outing you as an asshole?" he asks.

"I wouldn't blame her if she did, but no. She wanted to defend me," I say quietly.

"Emmett's advice to her was what?" he asks, making no comment about her request.

"He told her not to. She argued though," I add.

"I bet she did," he chuckles. "She's a woman who knows what she wants."

"She is."

"Looks to me like she wants you," he says quietly.

"I hope that's still true," I mumble to myself as I stare out the window.

**BPOV**

"I trust your judgement," dad tells me after I've given him the rundown of what's occurred over the past week or so. "I can't say I'm too happy about anything I've read in the papers, but I know better than to believe everything I read, kiddo."

"Thanks dad," I say quietly. "He's really nothing like what they make him out to be."

"He better not be," he says and I can imagine how his moustache would be twitching as he does.

"He isn't. He's the total opposite. He's kind and sweet and he's done everything he can to shield me from all of it."

"Tell me about this article today," he asks because, like me, he's never read the Financial Review in his life.

I pull the rumpled and creased copy of the paper from my backpack and read the entire article to him in one go. He asks me to read it again and I giggle a little because I'd had to read it twice myself before I really took it all in.

"Is any of it true?" he asks when I'm done with the second reading.

"Some of it," I admit, just as Edward had done when I'd asked the same question. "The good bits are true."

"Good bits?" he asks and I giggle again.

"Let me explain it all and you'll see the good bits, I promise," I tell him.

I go slowly, like Edward did with me, and after I've explained it all my dad thinks just like I do.

"He's a good guy, Bell's," he says softly. "He tried to do a good thing and Jake is trying to ruin it."

"I know," I say sadly. "But Edward's smart, dad. So, so smart. He can prove that he hasn't done anything wrong on this deal. And he's always three steps ahead on things like this."

"Will he be able to clear his name then?" dad asks. "Will all this publicity hurt his business do you think?"

"If there's a way to stop it Edward will find it," I say emphatically. "He's going to sue Jake for libel and he's going to win and then Jake will have to keep his big, fat mouth shut."

"Why does he hate him so bad?" dad asks.

"Oh dad," I wail, "it's so awful," I tell him and then I explain how Jake knows Tanya, how he used me way back when and how he's helping Tanya get at both Edward and I because he was in love with him.

"Jeez," dad whistles eloquently when I'm done. "I didn't see that coming."

"Me either," I sigh. "But Edward picked it. He called him on it and made Jake admit it."

"Forgive your old man for asking, kiddo, but if Edward's so smart and good and kind why are you crying?"

"Because he's perfect, and he doesn't want me," I sob.

**EPOV**

"You sure you want to do this without contacts in and with your lip busted?" Seth asks as we pull into Isabella's street.

"I don't give a fuck what anyone says anymore," I seethe.

He chuckles but says nothing about my answer. He pulls up, reminds me to keep my head down to hide my lip and eye this time, and then he opens and holds the back door for me.

We rush past the press, who are getting more and more aggressive as the days go by, and go into the sanctuary of Isabella's lobby.

"Call me if you need collecting," Seth tells me as I rush to the lift.

I wave to show him that I've heard him and as soon as the carriage arrives I'm in it, with the floor number pressed, and sweating bullets as I watch the numbers light up overhead.

I stand outside her door and take stock of myself before I knock.

I pull my suit jacket sleeves down a little, hoping to cover the smears of blood from my lip, and then I push my glasses back up my nose.

I square my shoulders as I knock and try to mentally prepare myself for what I'm about to do.

"Who is it?" she asks hesitantly, and rightly so.

"It's Edward," I say as clearly as my voice box will let me.

"What do you want?" she asks.

"I want to apologise," I tell her honestly.

I hear the deadbolt slide back and then the chain jiggle as it's released from its moorings. She opens the door just a little, her head down and her hands shaking at her sides.

"You don't have to apologise," she whispers so softly I have to lean down to make out the words. "I've been dumped before, I know the drill."

My stomach clenches at the sadness in her words and I kick myself mentally for making her think I didn't want her.

"Can I come in?" I ask instead of answering, not keen to explain myself whilst standing in the hall.

"Don't make it worse," she stammers, one of the few times I'd seen her being anything other than confident in herself. "I get it. You don't have to hammer it home. You asked me to leave and I left. You had every right to ask me to leave so let's just let the horse actually die without prodding it," she says a little more firmly as she raises her face.

I can see the redness in her eyes, the unshed tears lying along her lashes ready to spill over. Her lips are red and puffy and I want to kiss all her pain away.

I'm about to tell her that she's got it all wrong when she gasps and covers her mouth with her hand. "What happened to you?" she cries, those tears now cascading down her cheeks unchecked.

I was so hell bent on getting her to just talk to me that I'd forgotten what a sight I must be myself.

I reach for her but she backs away, back into her apartment. I raise my hands to show her that I won't touch her if she doesn't want me to and then I beg her to let me come inside, to explain myself and to apologise.

She eyes me warily but steps aside a little for me to enter. I go right past her and into her living room. She closes the door behind me and slides the bolt home once again.

"What happened?" she whispers as she joins me in the centre of the room.

"It doesn't matter," I tell her firmly. "Can we sit?" I ask, nodding towards her sofa. She nods and I sit on the very edge of it while she takes an armchair. "I seem to start and end every single day since I met you with I'm sorry," I tell her as I run a hand through my hair, "and today's no exception. I'm so sorry I asked you to leave."

"What happened to your eye and your lip?" she asks with cast down eyes, completely ignoring my apology.

"It doesn't matter," I tell her again gently.

"Who did that to you?" she asks a little more loudly and with more conviction.

But still she wouldn't raise her eyes to meet mine.

"I got in a fight," I tell her by way of an answer.

"At least you didn't tell me you walked into a door," she mumbles. "Was it with the press? Will there be pictures of it in the paper tomorrow?"

"God no!" I almost shout. "No. It was Seth," I tell her. "I got into a fight with Seth."

She raises her eyes to mine, probably to gauge whether or not I was telling the truth, and then lowers them again. "Are you alright?" she asks softly.

"Dad patched me up," I tell her.

"Good," she says. "I'll call your mom in the morning and tell her personally that I'm sorry I couldn't go to dinner."

"Don't worry about that," I tell her. "Will you accept my apology?" I ask cautiously.

"Okay," she whispers and I watch as more tears fall from her cheeks and land on her clasped hands as they rest in her lap. "And I'm sorry I invited your enemy into your home."

"I don't care about that," I tell her as softly as I can.

"You won't accept?" she asks sadly.

"I accept your apology, of course I do, but what I meant was you don't need to apologise because I'm glad you sent Seth to get Jake."

"You are?" she asks, her eyes wide when she lifts her head for just a second.

"Of course I am. You were right to do it and you were right about us needing to get some answers from him in a secure place where nothing that was said could be used later on," I tell her truthfully. "You're so smart," I say with as much of a smile as I can muster.

"I'm glad you got your answers," she mumbles and hangs her head again.

"Why won't you look at me?" I ask gently as I slip off the sofa and get onto my knees. I crawl across the floor and when I'm directly in front of her I look under the veil of her hair and put a finger to her chin. "Look at me, darling," I implore her as I raise her face. "Please don't cry," I beg. "I can't stand to see you upset."

I watch, feeling helpless, as more tears run in rivers down her cheeks. I reach for her, wanting to wash them away with my thumbs but she pulls back, denying me the chance.

"Don't make this worse," she whispers hoarsely. "I've accepted your apology. You can go now. I won't make a fuss and I won't say anything to the press, I promise," she tells me sadly.

"I know," I whisper as my stomach drops.

She's really crying then. Great, big fat tears slide down her cheeks onto her hands while she sobs. I want to hold her so badly but she's balked at me touching her twice and I don't want to frighten her by insisting, so I sit back on my haunches and give her some space.

She starts sniffing and I recognise it as her trying to control her tears and emotions. I get up and go into the kitchen. I bring back the box of tissues I'd seen on the counter. I take two out of the box and hand them to her. She mumbles thank you as mops up her tears and wipes her nose. I sit back on the edge of the sofa feeling like utter shit.

She won't let me apologise for being a coward and not accepting her help and it makes me feel sick. Physically sick.

I'd blown it. She'd changed her mind. She watched me fall apart at home and now she didn't want me.

I watch her out of the corner of my eye as she blots her eyes only for fresh tears to begin falling as soon as she's dried them.

After a few minutes of silence, the awkward kind, I get the not so subtle hint that I'd burnt my bridges to the ground and got to my feet.

"I really am sorry," I whisper to her as I go by the armchair. I kiss her softly on her hair, just once more I tell myself, as I make my way to the door.

I twist the deadbolt free, undo the chain and pull the door shut behind me as I go. I want to remind her to lock up but I figure that with me out of her life she may well not need the extra locks anyway.

I go down in the lift and walk across the foyer like a dead man walking.

The doorman, I don't know which one he is because I can't see very well with one eye half swollen shut, but really I just don't care which one he is, asks me if I'm alright. Probably because I look like shit. I ignore him and call for Seth to collect me. He says he's close by and won't be long but I just don't care about that either.

"Come and sit down," the guy says and I nod.

I flop down into one of the chairs that line the walls and put my head into my hands.

"Head down," the guy says as he pushes on my skull.

I was so out of it I hadn't even noticed that I was gasping for breath until he touched me.

My eyes are swimming. There's heat in my back and neck and I know, I just know I've gone too far to stave the attack off this time. The precursor to it in my home office earlier hadn't fully subsided and now I was going to have to go through the whole shebang. I have pills. Pairs of them that are kept in the cars and in my offices at home and at work, but not in my pockets.

My head is pounding, my heart racing and the buzzing in my ears is getting louder and louder as I try in vain to calm myself. I can feel the pins and needles in my hands and feet as it starts to spread and I know I'm going to lose it. Truly lose it this time.

I hear Seth then and it could be minutes or hours later but he's there, sitting on his knees in front of me, shouting at me to concentrate. Yelling into my face to open my mouth and swallow the pill he's trying to put there.

But I can't unclench my jaw. My teeth are tingling, my gums zapping, giving me little jolts as I try and part my lips. My tongue feels swollen, as though it will totally close over my throat.

I hear talking but the buzzing in my ears doesn't allow me to fully comprehend what's being said until I see the waste paper bin between my knees.

Seth knows. He knows what comes next. He's there and he knows.

And I'm vomiting. Without knowing that I am I see and smell the mess in the bin and know that it's me making it.

I hear talking again, it's softer and is further away but who it is I don't comprehend. I don't understand the words exchanged.

There are fingers in my hair then. Hands on my shoulders as I'm sat up, pushed backwards.

Then there are fingers in my mouth, hooking my lips and pulling them back. I taste the acrid, sour flavour of a pill and I swallow reflexively, desperate to have it and the oblivion I know it will bring me.

And then I'm moving. Being held up on both sides. I'm on my feet but they hurt. They ache and I try and make myself understood but the buzzing in my ears and the tightness in my chest takes all my attention.

I'm being dragged and I don't understand.

I'm being laid down and it makes the spasms in my neck hurt worse but I can't make myself understood.

And suddenly I'm cold, shivering as though I'm standing in snow and for all I know I am.

And then the beautiful relief of the dark swamps me.

**BPOV**

"His breathing is steady but shallow," I hear Seth say into his phone quietly and I check that he's right by laying my ear on Edward's chest.

He's breathing quickly, his heart racing, but Seth's right, it is steady and shallow. Not increasing, not decreasing, and I worry that I don't know which is better.

"He vomited _before_ I gave him the tablet," Seth says calmly. "He has pain in his joints, feet and hands and his ribs too," he says into the phone and I wonder how he knows that. "I'll text you the address," he says next and I know that someone is coming to help us.

I hear him whisper to Stanley as they stand off to one side of the equipment room and I want to know what they're saying. I want to know what happened. I want to know what to do.

"Bella," I hear my name called softly some time later and I look up to see Carlisle Cullen kneeling down beside me. "Bella, can you come away for a minute, to let me treat him?" he asks me softly and I nod.

I realise that I'm still leaning over him, my ear still to his chest and his hand still in mine. I let it go and get up onto my knees so I can slide away but I don't go far. I don't want to leave him even though I understand that Carlisle needs to check him over. I don't want to be on my own, sitting there at his side wondering what the hell I just saw happen and not be able to feel his skin to know that he was alive.

I waited for Carlisle to feel his pulse at his wrist and then I scoot forward again just a little and take Edward's hand into mine. I hold it tightly, taking note that he's still warm and his pulse is still hammering at his wrist.

His father shines a penlight into his eyes one at time and I find myself warning him to be careful of the bruised one.

"I'll be careful," he assures me but I watch him all the same.

He slips a stethoscope into his ears and then listens to Edward's chest before pulling away and asking Seth how long before his attack this afternoon the last attack was.

"Saturday morning, before the fun fair," Seth says sadly and I look up at him with wide eyes. "It wasn't like this," he tells me, rather than Carlisle. "It was very mild and it was over quickly, I promise."

"Did he need the medication then?" Carlisle asks as he rolls Edward onto his side and checks inside his mouth with his fingers.

"No," Seth says firmly. "We walked it off. Talked through it."

"Is he still smoking?" Carlisle asks.

"More lately," I reply, earning raised eyebrows. "He's been a little stressed."

"He didn't lose consciousness either Saturday or this afternoon?" Carlisle asks.

"No, nothing like that. A little sweating, a racing heart and the heat he usually feels up his back and neck, but he didn't pass out."

"Has he had any alcohol today?" Carlisle asks next.

"He drank water at lunch," Seth says, "but since then I don't know. Bella?" he says, looking to me.

"One beer and one glass of scotch at the house," I whimper as I think back. "Oh god, I practically challenged him to drink it," I sob.

"It's okay," Carlisle says calmly as he pats my forearm. "Can you tell me how long ago that was?"

"Um, around three, four maybe? What time did I arrive at the house?" I ask Seth.

"Three twenty," he says emphatically.

"Around four hours, that's fine," Carlisle says and I let out the breath I'd been holding. "Do you know if he took any pain killers for the cut lip or his eye?" he asks.

"I don't know," I mumble.

"I don't either," Seth says sadly.

"Okay," Carlisle sighs as he feels for Edward's pulse again at his wrist. "It's coming down," he says with a firm nod. "He'll be fine," he assures me as he checks inside his mouth again with his fingers. "He has medication to stave the attacks off but I'm assuming he didn't actually have any on him when this started. Am I right?" he told me but asked Seth.

"We keep them in the cars, at the house and at the office. He was worried that if he goes down and it gets out that he's got medication in his pockets the press will call him a junkie," Seth hisses. "He thinks Jake will spin it, make it look like he's incapable of running such a huge company if he's like this. I told him not to be so stupid, to keep them in his wallet or at least in his briefcase, but he wouldn't hear it."

"I'll convince him," I hear myself saying.

Carlisle smiles at me warmly and I wonder why. Its brief and I don't understand a thing that's going on around me.

"He'll sleep this off and be good as new, I promise," he's telling me gently with a pat to the back of my hand.

"Can we move him?" Seth asks. "I can't be sure what the press has already seen of him in the lobby."

"I don't see why not," Carlisle agrees as he gets to his feet. "But getting him out of here without them getting pictures will be tricky."

"He's not going outside," I say sternly as I too get to my feet. "He comes with me."

Carlisle looks to Seth who looks to me and then they're both nodding.

"You go up," Seth tells me. "Get the door unlocked and a bed ready for him. We'll bring him."

I don't want to let go of him. I'm afraid that he'll stop breathing and I'll never get a chance to tell him I understand or that I love him.

"Bella," Carlisle whispers at my side and I turn my eyes to him slowly. "He's not in any danger. The medication puts him out. It's supposed to. It gives him relief from the attack and lets him sleep off the worst of it. That's all."

"You swear it?" I demand defiantly.

"I do," Carlisle says matter of factly. "Go up and do what Seth has asked, we'll bring him to you and you can care for him, I promise."

I look to Seth who's nodding his agreement and then back to Carlisle who's pleading with me with his eyes. "Alright," I say quietly. I kiss Edward's hand then let it go.

I run out of the tiny equipment room and slap the button for the lift. I step from foot to foot impatiently while I wait for the carriage to come and rush into it when it does.

I throw open my front door, run down the hall to my bedroom and pull back the covers on my bed as quickly as I could. He'd been shivering despite the evening being a mild one, so I ran to the hall closet and pulled down my spare blankets and pillows.

When the bed's ready I go back to the closet and pull down fresh towels and face cloths. I stack them in the bathroom and then run back to the kitchen. I fill a glass of water and take it to the bedroom.

I look around; trying to think of anything I've forgotten. I understood panic attacks but what Edward was experiencing was so much worse than anything I'd had to deal with myself. As awful as mine made me feel his were a hundred times worse if what I'd just seen was the norm.

I put my hand to my mouth and stifle the sob I know is sitting right there, desperate to escape my lips. My beautiful Edward, my smart, sweet and kind Edward was suffering crippling anxiety attacks and I hadn't known.

I'd thought his twitches and ticks, the fidgeting and the hair rubbing were the extent of his 'tells' but I'd been wrong.

And he hadn't told me.

I put that out of mind when I hear the telltale 'ding' of the lift arriving.

I turn the lights down a little and then go to the door to wait.

Seth's got him slung over his shoulder, in a fireman's lift. "Which way?" he asks.

"Follow me," I tell him as I run ahead.

I watch as he lowers Edward onto my bed. I pull off his shoes and then I cover him with the blankets. I pat down his hair softly; telling him that I was there and that everything will be okay.

"Bella," Carlisle says quietly and I plant a soft kiss to the coppery mop and leave the room with the two men.

"How long will he sleep?" I ask as soon as we're in the living room.

"A few hours, at the very least," Carlisle tells me. "But he may be groggy and disoriented when he does wake up."

"What will he need?" I ask.

"Water and aspirin, do you have some?" Carlisle asks as he digs into his bag of tricks. He doesn't wait for my answer, instead he hands me a box of the little tablets with a shaking hand. "Keep him drinking so he doesn't dehydrate from the vomiting and if he's nauseous he can have two of these every four hours," he says, handing me a little bottle of pills.

"He'll be cranky and embarrassed," Seth warns me. "And he'll crave sugar. I'll run out and get something. I won't be long," he tells me as he pulls his keys from his pocket. "Lock this door when he leaves, Bella," he tells me with a nod towards Edward's dad.

"He shouldn't be embarrassed," I mumble once he's gone.

"No, he shouldn't," Carlisle says quietly. "But he will be. He always has been."

"He's had them for a while then?" I ask.

"All his life," he admits sadly. "I thought this was happening less and less often lately but he told me tonight that in the last week he's had several quite bad episodes."

"Because of me," I whisper.

"No, sweetheart, not because of you. Because of the media scrutiny and his worry over whether or not you can handle it."

"I am handling it," I tell him sternly. "I haven't whined or bitched about it. I've accepted it as a part of being with him. He knows that. I've told him that."

"He said as much," he sighs but I don't understand the sadness in his voice. "Talk with him when he's up to it. He won't be pleased you were there to see this side of him, but talk to him if he'll let you. I'll come by in the morning and check in on you both."

"Thank you, for everything," I tell him as he gathers his things. "I'll take good care of him, I promise."

"I know you will," he smiles kindly. "Call me if you need anything. Even if you just need to ask my advice. My numbers in the phone Edward gave you."

"I will," I agree as we move to the door.

"Talk to him," he says pointedly as he leaves.

I slide the locks across and lean my forehead against the door while I gather myself.

I didn't understand a lot of what I'd been told and I was smart enough to know that the two men who had just been in my apartment knew more than I did. Edward held the answers I needed but he would sleep for a while.

I wanted to sleep too. I needed to. But Seth was coming back with sweets so I knew I couldn't just yet.

I set the tablets onto the kitchen counter and wrote out Carlisle's instructions onto a sticky note that I stuck to the counter too. I ran back to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, taking his hand into mine. I rubbed it softly while I watched him sleep.

He looked so peaceful, his breathing more regular and not so shallow now. His brow was crease free and his lips were slack in sleep.

"I can handle anything thrown at me as long as I'm with you," I whisper though I know he can't hear me. "I just wish you'd let me show you."

**EPOV**

I'm hot.

That's my first thought as I wake. I'm hot and I have no clue where I am.

I crack one eye open and wince at the pain. Wrong eye I think to myself as I reach up and feel that it's now swollen shut.

"Easy," I hear whispered beside me as a soft and warm hand takes mine and brings it down from my face. I try and I turn a little, cringing at the pound of a headache behind my temples as I do. "Move slowly. You're safe here," the voice says.

I roll very slowly onto my side and open my other eye. The room's dark, just the soft glow of a lamp far away to illuminate it, but I can see that I'm in a bedroom. It's not mine though.

"Where am I?" I croak.

"At my apartment," comes the reply and I look up a little and see Isabella sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Water," I groan as I try and shift a little so that I can swallow.

Within seconds she's holding a glass, telling me to lie back, that she'll help me.

She holds the back of my head and I do my best to open my mouth and sip at it without spilling it.

"More?" she asks as she takes the glass down, giving me time to catch my breath. I open my mouth as a reply and she tilts the glass again, waiting patiently while I take tiny pulls of the cool water. "Better?" she asks when I slump back onto the pillows.

"Thank you," I manage to grunt before closing my eyes again.

"Sleep," she whispers near my ear.

I feel her hand in mine, rubbing my fingers gently, and I moan at how good it feels.

"Sleep," she whispers again and I think that's a very good idea.

* * *

I've been sick in my sleep is my first thought when I wake next.

I can smell it, though it's faint.

I try to open an eye but the pain in my head is crippling.

"Shhh," comes her voice from beside me but I don't remember making any sound myself. "You're alright," she coos as she pushes my hair off my forehead.

"I'm sorry," I manage to slur.

"Don't be," she whispers. "I'm here, I've got you," she says as she runs a cool cloth over my forehead.

Its bliss. A relief from the fiery sweat.

"Sleep," she says softly and I relax knowing she's there and let it take me over.

* * *

The next time I wake I know where I am. I'm in Isabella's home, in her bed. What I don't know is why.

That's insignificant though because whilst I still have the headache I have a much more pressing issue.

I roll onto my side and open my good eye so I can find her. The rooms still dark and she's not in my line of sight and I worry just a little that I'm alone.

"Bathroom," I grunt, making the dull ache in my head throb, hoping someone hears me.

"I'll help," comes her voice though I can't tell from which direction it comes.

And then she's there. At the side of the bed and I can see her grey sleep pants though the image is fuzzy still. She kneels down and then I can see her face. I try and smile but can only manage a grimace.

"Swing your legs over first," she says and I take a deep breath before I do. "Good, now I'll take your hips, you push up with your hands on the mattress," she advises.

I do as she says and I manage to stand, though I'm unsteady. I have to keep my eyes closed against the little bit of light there is so I'm disoriented and I clutch outwards with my hands hoping she'll get the hint and guide me without me having to try and speak again.

She's there then, slinging my arm over her shoulder, wrapping one arm around my waist to help hold me up. "Slowly," she whispers beside me and we begin to walk. Each step is echoed in my head as a thump and I do my best not to grunt as I put one foot in front of the other. "A little left," she whispers and I put my next step to my left.

I hear the turning of a door handle and then the cold of tiles greets my feet.

"Stop here," she says softly and I do, grateful for the time to rest as she undoes first my belt and then the button and zipper on my suit pants.

I feel them loosen and huff at how degrading it is to need help to empty my bladder.

"Do you want to sit?" she asks and I nod because it's all I'm capable of right then. Her fingers take mine and then they're met with the hard, smooth surface of a countertop. "That's the sink," she tells me before letting my hand go. "You're right in front of the toilet, all you need to do is sit. I'll be right outside the door, just bash on the wall to your right when you're done and I'll come back."

I wait until I hear the door close and then I slide my pants and boxers to my knees before using the sink as a steadier as I sit.

I sigh at the relief as I pee and say a silent thank you to the girl who shouldn't have to help me to do it.

I stand when I'm done and do my best to drag my clothing back up. The button and zipper are beyond my abilities so I just let my pants hang on my hips. Washing my hands is impossible too but flushing the toilet is a must.

I reach one hand behind myself and trace the outline of the cistern until I find the button then I use that same hand to tap on the wall.

The door opens and she's there again, right in front me, tugging my pants closed and doing up the button.

"Hands," I grunt.

"I've got sanitiser in the bedroom," she tells me and I'm grateful. She ducks back under my shoulder again and puts her arm around my waist. "Slowly," she tells me again and we shuffle back into the bedroom and the haven that is her bed.

We repeat in reverse the same process as before and I sit first, swing my legs into the bed and then gratefully lower my head back to the pillow.

I feel the side of the mattress depress as she sits at my side and then my hands are being rubbed with the cold jelly of hand sanitiser. She rubs them vigorously and then wipes them over with a towel.

"There you go," she murmurs softly.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"Sleep," she whispers at my ear and I swear I feel her kiss me gently on the top of my head before sleep claims me again.

* * *

The next time I wake its light in the room and my eyes adjust faster to my surroundings.

The headache is still there though it's no longer concentrated in my temples; it's a gentler thud as I sit up a little.

Every muscle and joint aches but its tolerable. Just.

The swelling in my eye has gone down overnight too and though my vision is still blurry it's because I have neither my glasses nor my contacts in.

I lie there and take stock of my body. My feet and fingers are no longer tingling and the heat in my back and neck is gone. My chest feels lighter and the constriction there has dissipated with sleep. My tongue feels its normal size and the rhythmic clenching and unclenching of my jaw the night before hasn't left my mouth feeling too bad.

I'm the right temperature which is a relief in itself.

My gut is rumbling but I don't feel as though I need to be sick as I sit up fully against the pillows.

"How do you feel?" a soft voice asks from across the room.

This time I have no problem turning my head to find her. I can't see her perfectly without glasses on but I can see that she's sitting at a small table, a pen in her hand and papers on the tables surface.

She's wrapped in a robe and her hair is piled up on top of her head. She's beautiful, even from that distance.

"Okay," I mumble, remembering to answer her question after a fairly lengthy silence.

"Do you think you could stomach some juice?" she asks as she rises from the table.

"Juice would be good," I rasp from my hoarse throat.

She leaves the room and I'm left lying there wondering how she knew I'd need something sweet. She comes back with a tray and sets it on the bedside cabinet and then she's offering me a long glass of icy cold orange juice.

My mouth waters instantly and I suck it down fast. I hand her the empty glass and she refills it from a jug before offering it to me a second time.

I'm slower this time but I drain it all the same. My body craves sugar in any form after a full blown attack and she knows it. How she knows it remains to be seen but I have my suspicions.

I hand the glass back and watch as she refills it a third time. She offers it to me but I decline as politely as I can.

She sets the still full glass on the cabinet and takes the tray away, probably back to the kitchen. When she returns she's got a bowl of fruit and a plastic bag.

"Fruit or jubes?" she asks as she holds the bowl and the bag out in front of herself.

"Jubes," I almost whimper pathetically. "How did you know?" I ask as she sets the bowl with the glass and tears open the bag.

"Your dad and Seth told me what you'd need," she whispers as she passes me the bag.

I dive into it right away, choosing an orange flavoured jelly sweet. I chew it carefully, savouring the sugary coating before all I'm left with is the gelatinous centre.

"It's good," I say around the mushy treat before swallowing.

"Natural sugar," she tells me as she goes back to the little table.

I chew a few more of the sweets, take another long pull from the glass of juice and wiggle down until I'm lying flat again.

"Wake me in an hour and I'll get out of your hair," I mumble as I close my eyes again.

**BPOV**

I watch him sleep, my homework forgotten on the table in front of me.

I'd spent hours online on my laptop reading about the symptoms, signs and treatment for severe anxiety disorders and had made list after list of things to remember for next time. And I knew there would be a next time.

Carlisle had told me that his son had suffered with these attacks almost his whole life so I knew that at some point in the future this would happen again and I was determined to be informed and prepared.

All I had to hope was that he'd want me around when it did.

He's peaceful this time. Not thrashing or moaning in pain. His breathing has steadied and slowed as the night's gone on. He stopped vomiting around three in the morning and hadn't coughed or even sounded like he was gagging since then, thankfully.

I'd mopped up after him, patted his hair when he cried out and wiped his face and hands over and over through the night to try and make him comfortable. I had no idea if any of it had achieved that goal but I knew that I'd had to try.

Helping him in the bathroom had frightened me. The sheer 'ick' factor of having to help a man to relieve himself had bothered me at first but once I had him on his feet and saw and felt just how helpless he was, and blind too because of the headache, I put all of that out of my mind and did my best by him.

I look over at his shoes on the floor at the foot of my bed and smile. His wallet, keys and glasses were on the bedside cabinet and his belt was in a coil on the end of the bed. I wanted his things to be there. I wanted to be near him and his things because it made me happy.

His mumbled words as he'd fallen asleep the last time had made my chest ache and my belly lurch. I had so many conversations floating around in my head, and so many questions about those conversations, that I didn't really understand how we'd gotten to where we were.

I'd assumed that Edward had asked me to leave his home because he no longer wanted me, that he was angry because I'd sent for Jake or that he'd simply worked out how much trouble it was going to be, for both of us, to be together.

But now I wasn't so sure.

If I had it wrong I needed it to be Edward who told me so.

If he had the impression that I didn't want him I had to clear that up and tell him that he was wrong.

If he thought that I wouldn't want him because he suffered anxiety attacks he had rocks in his head and I'd be quite happy to tell him that too.

But right then he was sleeping peacefully and it would all have to wait.

It was Saturday morning and I had nowhere to be so once I was sure he was deeply asleep I went out into the kitchen and set the kettle to boil.

I called Jasper and told him that I wasn't at Edward's house, that he was at mine. We talked for a little while, about this and that, but mainly about whether I thought being with 'this guy' was worth it.

It was easy to tell my brother that it was, that Edward was important to me, and I ended the call after accepting his luck and best wishes.

I talked to my dad who asked all the same questions as my brother had. He wasn't quite so forthcoming with the good wishes at the end. But I figured if I had a daughter who'd called me the night before in tears because a boy didn't want her, only to call the next morning with a story like I had to tell, I wouldn't be too receptive either.

I checked in with Seth who told me that there was nothing in the press about the incident the night before and nothing about Edward having a black eye and cut lip. None of the press had moved on from either of our homes, but so far they had no clue that anything out of the ordinary had occurred during the night. As far as they were concerned the two of us were shacked up at my house for a change, rather than at his.

Seth told me that Emmett was still sitting on the two versions of Edward's statement and that there was no hurry for him to make up his mind which one to go with, if he still wanted to in the cold light of day.

With business over Seth then asked if I was okay and if I needed anything personally. I told him I was fine, needed nothing at all and thanked him for all he'd done already. He asked if Edward needed anything and all I could think of was some clean clothes. He promised he'd bring some within the hour.

I called Edward's parents and assured them that he was okay, had slept a lot and that he'd seemed much better the last time he'd woken.

Carlisle reminded me that he'd be stopping by on his way to work and Esme begged me to stop apologising for not going to dinner the night before. She made me promise to come to the next one, the following Friday, and I told her honestly that I wasn't sure that's what Edward wanted yet.

She scoffed. I politely argued. She told me to fight for him. I promised I'd try. She told me she'd 'box his ears' if he was horrid to me and we hung up giggling.

With a fresh mug of coffee for me and a pot of tea all ready for boiling water when he woke up next I went back to the table in my bedroom and my homework.

**EPOV**

My first thought on waking was to look over at the little table and see if she was still there.

She was. Though she'd changed out of her robe and was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair was loose and flowing down her back. The sunlight coming in the window made it look as though she had a halo. She was stunning.

"You're so beautiful," I whisper as I sit up, noting that it was, at last, much easier to do so. It was also almost pain free.

"And you're awake," she whispers back as she comes to the side of the bed. "Juice?" she asks and I nod.

I drain the glass again but decline any more. She offers me more jubes, the bowl of fruit and some water but I'm good and tell her so.

"I know you can't have coffee but I've got tea?" she whispers instead.

"Later," I tell her softly and reach for her hand. She lets me take it into mine. I pull it to my lips and kiss her knuckles. "Thank you for taking care of me," I tell her sincerely. "I'm sorry I was sick, and I'm sorry I've sweated all through your bed and I'm sorry you had to witness me lose my shit like that."

"Are you ashamed of it?" she asks out of the blue.

I'm a little stunned by the bluntness of the question, but not that surprised she'd asked. "I've learned to be," I tell her honestly.

"Why?" is her simple reply.

"Because it'll be reported as a weakness. They'll say I'm not fit to control my own company. Jake will use it against me; make it sound like I'm not competent, not of sound mind."

"Then you'll sue for libel again, and win, and he'll shut up, again," she says defiantly.

"It's not that simple," I sigh as I sit up further and pull on her so she's sitting on the side of the bed.

"If you had diabetes and you had to take insulin everyday do you think the press would care? Do you think Jake could turn that around and use it against you?" she asked.

"No," I say matter of factly. "But that's a disease. This is me not being able to cope with the stresses of running a company that thousands of employees count on me being able to run every day."

"How many attacks that were this bad have you had in the last year?" she asks and I cringe.

"Three," I mumble.

"When was the first one?" she asks.

"July third."

"What happened on July second?" she asks, astutely.

"The League managed to successfully block me from getting a permit to open a smelter that would've opened up a whole new avenue for export," I mutter. "The press swarmed. There was talk that I'd lost my edge, that my processes were so environmentally damaging that all my permits should be revoked. Nothing ever came of that. I fought that and won in the end."

"And the next attack was when?"

"The first week of September."

"What happened prior?"

"Rosie nearly died giving birth to my nephew."

"And the third?"

"Last night," I say quietly.

"What happened prior?" she asks though she knows damn well what happened, she just wants me to say it.

"I had a confrontation with Jake, had a minor attack, made my beautiful girlfriend think I didn't want her and that caused a full blown attack."

"I'm ignoring the last bit of that," she says matter of factly, "but if you think about the three major attacks you've had this year two of them were caused by pressure and stress from your work and the other by a personal trauma.

"The only shameful part about any of that is that it's direct pressure from the press, and Jake, that caused you to have two of those attacks. _They_ are the ones who should be ashamed, not you."

"That's nice, in theory," I agree. "And they should be ashamed, but that doesn't change anything. I don't want anyone to know about this. Regardless of what their opinion is of it, if it gets out I'm ruined."

"Then we won't tell anyone," she says simply. "Your dad's coming by soon to check on you. Seth will drop off some clean clothes and things soon too so do you think you're up to a shower and something to eat?" she asks as she gets up from the side of the bed, our discussion obviously over.

"A shower definitely," I tell her, "food is a little ways off yet. In a few hours maybe."

"Then let's get you into the shower," she says brightly.

"I don't suppose you have a rainwater thingy, do you?" I tease as I gingerly swing my legs over the side of the bed.

"No, but I do have a hosepipe that hangs out of the wall like Seth," she giggles as she helps me to my feet.

"I suppose it'll have to do," I joke as I begin to walk to the bathroom.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading. **

**Please review. **


	14. Chapter 14

**BPOV**

"Thank you for this," I tell Seth as I usher him inside and take the small bag from him.

"How is he?" he asks as he comes inside and follows me to the kitchen.

"Better, I think," I report as I set the bag down and refill the kettle. "He's in the shower."

"He'll take a little while to perk up," he warns before nodding when I ask if he wants coffee. "He's usually a bit sluggish for half a day or so after. Doesn't eat much and what he does eat needs to be pretty plain. Pasta, bread, rice a few vegies."

I slide his mug across the counter and take up my own. "I'll need to shop then if he's going to stay here for a bit," I say, trying to keep the hope out of my voice.

"Is he going to stay here for a bit?" he asks and I shrug, not knowing the answer yet. "Don't take this personally but I'd rather, if the two of you are going to stay together, that you come to his place rather than staying here."

"I don't know what he wants yet," I tell him truthfully. I wasn't offended at his comment. I understood that it was easier for Seth to protect him in familiar surroundings at Edward's house than it was to do it here. "We didn't get to talk about me needing a full time bodyguard last night," I remind him.

"No, we didn't. Got a bit sidetracked," he chuckled.

"Yeah a bit," I huff. "Can you tell me why?"

He looks down the hall, in the direction of the sound of the running water, and then back to me. "How longs he been in there?" he asks and I tell him he only started the shower ten seconds before the knock at my door. "I'll keep it quick," he tells me.

"I understand if you want to talk to him about it first," I say.

"I told you before, your safety is your business," he says firmly. "I would tell you if there was a specific threat to you physically, but there isn't. Or at least there isn't one I've heard about or seen any evidence of.

"But to the boss there is. There always is," he sighs. ""He's threatened continually, Bella. Because of who he is, what he does and who he sells what he makes to. It makes him a target. That makes you a target too, not because anyone wants to hurt you, but because you could be hurt in any attempt that's made to hurt him. _That's_ what my team and I are guarding you against."

"Someone would try and hurt him because he sells steel?" I ask, eyebrows raised.

"Sounds stupid, doesn't it?" he asked and I agreed that it did. "The industry looks very white collar from a distance," he says before taking a swig from his mug. "Well educated, wealthy guys in suits using blue collar workers to pull minerals from the ground doesn't sound very cut throat, but it is. The more money involved the hairier it gets.

"It's not the big wigs themselves I have to worry about though. They are exactly what they seem to be, just rich guys in suits trying to get richer. It's the environmental nutjobs that I have to worry about. And the extortionists. And the kidnappers. The whacko's with an axe to grind over getting fired for being shit at their jobs who think that taking a pot shot at the boss will make them sleep better at night."

"They shoot at him?" I wail before covering my mouth with my hand.

"They try," he admits. "That's why he hired me in the first place actually. Eight years ago he was shot at as he was getting out of his car at the office. Different building back then though. He bought the new building soon after, mainly because of the underground parking garage.

"He's never been hurt on my watch," he says proudly before tapping his knuckles on my counter, "knock on wood he never does."

"Have you?" I ask hesitantly. I was shocked at what I'd just been told and wanted, no, I needed to know exactly what I was up against.

He eyes me carefully before nodding. "Two years ago," he whispers as we hear the water shut off and the squeak of my shower door opening. "We were at the public opening of a new factory. There wasn't room to set up a stage or anything so we just had him stand in front of the crowd. They surged forwards unexpectedly. I got him behind me no problem but I got crushed between him and a steel barrier in front. Broke two ribs and punctured a lung," he grimaces.

"Jesus Christ," is all I can say.

"It's what he pays me for," he shrugs, his features settling back into the confident, in control Seth I knew. "And it's what he's paying for Jared and Tyler, and me too, to do for you."

"I'm paying for Jared and Tyler though," I reply.

He looks uneasy then. He leans forward and motions to me with his finger so I do the same. "It's your money so you have a right to know about that too," he whispers. "It's going into trust, what you're paying. Edward's paying Jared and Tyler and putting your money aside so he can give it back to you later."

"Cheeky bastard," I whistle as I stand up straight again.

"Kinda sweet though, right?" he asks, eyebrows raised hopefully.

"Yeah, kinda sweet," I mumble.

"What's sweet?" Edward asks as he comes into the kitchen.

He's fucking glorious with his suit pants hanging low on his hips without his belt, his chest bare and a towel hanging around his shoulders.

"You are with your pink towel there, kid," Seth laughs, covering perfectly.

"Real men aren't afraid of pink," Edward chuckles as he moves towards Seth, hand outstretched. "Thanks for last night," he says firmly as they shake.

"All in a day's work, boss," Seth says with a wink. "I've brought you some clothes and a few toiletries if you want to shave," he says, lifting the bag off the floor.

"I do, thanks," he says as he takes up the bag himself. "I won't be long," he tells us both and goes back down the hall.

"Thanks for the coffee," Seth tells me as he hands me the mug. "I've got a few errands to run but Jared is downstairs if you need to go anywhere. If he needs to go anywhere," he says, nodding towards the hall, "call me and I'll come collect him if you're travelling separately."

I tell him a sincere thank you and lock the door behind him.

I put the mugs into the dishwasher and reboil the kettle for Edward's tea and then I go back to my bedroom. His bag is open on my bed, his clothing from the night before lying next to it. I scoop them up, as well as the towels and face cloths I'd used during the night and take them to the small laundry room that's hidden in the hall closet.

I set his clothes to wash and fill the basin with warm water to soak the towels and then I go back and make the bed. I can hear the electric razor humming away in my bathroom and have to smile. It's so nice to have him in my home. It's so nice to know that he's slept in my bed.

Now I just had to hope that he didn't want to leave yet, or that if he did he asked me to go with him.

**EPOV**

I hide in the bathroom as long as I can reasonably expect them to believe I'm shaving. But my time's up.

I look at myself in the mirror and see the mess and strain of the night before. One black eye, the other red rimmed and tired looking. My bottom lip split and a grim set to my lips.

I check the time on my watch and know that my dad would be arriving any minute on his way past for work. Once the check up was complete, and that wouldn't take long, he'd leave and then it would be just Isabella, Seth and I. He'd take my bag for me, say his goodbyes to her and leave us alone for just a moment to say our own goodbyes. Probably our last.

She'd avoided talking to me about anything other than business or my health so far so I knew she was not keen to discuss 'us'. She'd taken wonderful care of me, though I loathed that she'd had to, and she'd been sympathetic and understanding about my condition. But that didn't equate to accepting and I knew it.

I hear her in the bedroom and take one last look at myself in the mirror before taking my wet pack and joining her there.

"Where are my clothes?" I ask as I look at the bed where I'd stashed them.

"In the washer," she says from across the room by the table where she's gathering papers.

"You're washing my clothes?"

"You'd been sick on your shirt," she says quietly.

"Christ," I mutter. "I'm so sorry."

"You say that a lot," she replies quietly.

"I mean it a lot."

"I know you do," she sighs.

"Listen, I think we should..." I start to say but I'm interrupted by the chiming of her doorbell.

"That'll be your dad," she says hurriedly before rushing past me and going down the hall.

"That'll be my dad," I mumble as I throw my wet pack into my bag and zip it up violently.

I slide on my cufflinks and adjust my cuffs, the sound of soft voices floating down the hallway as I prepare myself. I slip on my shoes, feed my belt through the loops on my suit pants and then slip into my jacket. I leave my tie hanging untied and loose around my neck knowing dad was going to want to listen to my chest and then I slip my wallet and keys back into my pockets.

I take my bag with me as I leave her bedroom and say a silent goodbye to it and the bed that had been so comfortable the night before.

"Hi dad," I say as I go into the kitchen.

"Good morning, son," he greets me.

"Where's Seth?" I ask, having not seen him in the living room or hall.

"He had some errands to run," Isabella tells me as she slides a mug of tea across the counter for me. "He said to call him if you needed collecting."

That startles me. She didn't say _when_ I needed collecting, she'd said _if_. I'd been certain he'd be waiting for me. I'd been certain she was just waiting for my father to give me the all clear and she'd want me to go right after.

"How are you feeling this morning?" dad asks, breaking the awkward silence I'd created by not commenting.

"A bit fuzzy," I admit.

"Take a seat," he tells me with a wave of his hand towards the dining room.

Isabella follows as we go into the next room. She leans against the doorframe and watches as my father checks me over.

As predicted he has me open my shirt so he can listen to my heart. He takes my pulse at my wrist and again in my neck. He checks my good eye with his penlight and the swollen one with an ophthalmoscope. He pokes and prods first my lip and then my knuckles.

He asks what I've eaten, what I've had to drink. How long I slept and what my eyesight, headache and lethargy were like when I did wake.

He asks if I've taken any of the anti nausea pills he left for me that I'd had no idea about.

He asks if my headache is still present and how bad it is when I say it's still there.

He pronounces me relatively fit and gives his thanks to Isabella for taking care of me overnight.

I sit there waiting for him to pack up his things with a measurable amount of dread in my head and heart.

I let him pat me on the top of my head like I'm six, I wish him a good day at work and promise to call my mother at some point during the day.

I sit right there, in her dining room, and wait for the death knell to sound on the only significant relationship I'd ever had.

**BPOV**

I see Carlisle off at the front door and go back into the kitchen to avoid having to go into the dining room.

I wash our mugs by hand, wasting as much time as possible. I wash down and dry the sideboard, the sink, the counter tops though there isn't a mark on any surface. I change the rubbish bag in the bin. I hang a new tea towel on the rail above the oven door. I retrieve a new roll of paper towel from the pantry and slide it onto its pedestal by the stove.

I stop short of sweeping and mopping the floors and when there is nothing left to hold my attention I go back to the dining room.

He's just sitting there, at my table, his hands in his lap and his shoulders slumped with his back to the doorway where I come to stand. I can't see his face and I find myself wishing that I could. Just one last time I wanted to look at him, memorize his features so I could dream about him at night.

"I don't want to leave," he says so softly I think I've imagined it.

My heart begins to race with hope and my tears begin to well.

"If you leave I want to go too," I say quietly and too quickly.

He doesn't turn but I see his shoulders square just a little, as though what I've said has either pleased him or given him confidence.

"I asked you to leave my home yesterday because I didn't want you to see me in throws of a full-blown panic attack. It was cowardly of me, weak and vain to send you away," he says matter of factly.

The relief I feel at his words swamps my body and I feel the first tears begin to fall down my cheeks. But still he doesn't turn to face me and I feel a little braver for being able to say what I want without having to look him in the eye as I do.

"I didn't know," I tell him. "You should've told me."

"I should have, I know. But I couldn't. I didn't want to see the look of disappointment on your face when you found out," he says sadly.

"Why would I be disappointed?"

"Because I'm a fraud," he says forlornly.

"How so?" I ask.

"I'm flawed. Not normal. I puke on myself and my brain shuts down when I lose control of my emotions or situations. You don't deserve that."

"You're so full of shit," I say as evenly as I can.

"That too," he agrees.

"You aren't a fraud," I tell him sternly, "you're afraid."

"That too," he agrees again.

"You're afraid that you aren't perfect. You're afraid that your personal flaws contradict your professional brilliance. You're afraid to truly be yourself because you think that if anyone sees that the two personas don't match _they'll_ think you're a fraud.

"You don't stand up for yourself in the press not because it's taking the higher moral ground not to, but because you're afraid that if you do, and they up the ante, you'll have an attack at the wrong moment and they'll document what you think is a weakness."

"Probably," he whispers.

"You're afraid to call Tanya's bluff because you think she'll spill her guts about you," I accuse sharply.

"Yes," he whimpers, burying his head in his hands.

"So do it yourself," I say matter of factly.

"What?" he asks loudly, his head jerking up quickly as he turned to face me.

"You heard me," I bark. "Call a press conference. Invite anyone who'll turn up with a camera and a recorder and spill your guts. Tell them everything. Panic attacks, self doubt, fear, self consciousness, that you wear glasses, everything. Tell them you hate wearing jeans and that you have a sweet tooth. Tell them you like opera for all I care, but tell them yourself.

"Tell them you get nervous and anxious when confronted. Tell them you always have done and that you've still managed to build and run a successful company. Tell them about the threats on your life. Tell them about the Asia deal, about that company's links to Doctors without Borders. Tell them why the price on the contract was changed. Get it all out there. All of it. On your own terms and in your own language. Do it yourself and everything she and anyone else has on you becomes worthless."

I watched his face as he took in what I'd said. I was ready if he panicked; I knew what to do now. I was ready if he balked; I knew what I'd say. What I wasn't ready for was a request.

"Will you stand beside me while I say it?"

I thought about it a moment before answering as clearly as I could.

"No, I won't," I tell him and before he can respond I move forward, sliding to my knees so I'm looking up at him instead of down as he sits. "You don't need a crutch and if I stand beside you while you make your statement that's what I'll be seen as. I'll be with you, on the sidelines, and I'll be supporting you all the way, but I can't stand beside you while you do it."

He looks disappointed but not unhappy. He cups my jaw with his beautiful hands and kisses me softly, making my heart leap and a little of my own panic subside.

When he pulls away he doesn't go far, just resting his forehead on mine. "I understand, and you're right," he whispers between us. "If you're there they'll just assume I've only found my balls because you've been playing with them," he chuckles.

"Kinda true," I giggle back.

"Yeah, kinda true," he agrees softly. "I have to go to the office, meet with Emmett and get things rolling."

"I know," I agree.

"Did you mean what you said before?" he asks and I have to ask which bit, because I'd said a lot. "You said that if I left you wanted to come too. Did you mean it?"

"Yeah, I meant it," I whisper as I slide my hand into his in his lap.

He closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath that sounds a little relieved. "I don't want to be apart from you. I know it's quick, I know it's probably too soon, but I don't want to be without you anymore," he whispers after a short silence.

"I don't want to be here without you," I say honestly. "Ask me," I beg, hoping he'll catch on to what I mean.

"Stay with me? Indefinitely?" he asks hoarsely. "I'm a pain in the ass. I'm a control freak and I suffer severe anxiety attacks that you'll have to put up with if you stay with me. I work long hours and I get cranky a lot. I'm never truly off the clock, even at home, but every second of time I'm away from you I feel so lost. So every second of time I do get I'll devote it to making you happy. Stay with me, please?"

**EPOV**

I watch her eyes fill with tears and then hold my breath as they begin to fall down her cheeks.

She's not said a word so I try and sell it a little more. "Seth can protect us more easily at my house. And if we go everywhere together, or almost everywhere, you won't have to pay for both Jared and Tyler, just one or the other because they can switch out with Seth.

"And Mrs Davis would love to have you there too. And I can knock through the wall between two of the guest rooms and make a bigger room for you if you like. And I'll clear out one of the bedrooms upstairs and you can have a study of your own to do your homework and assignments.

"I'll have a rainwater thingy put in your bathroom..." I say but she cuts me off.

"Stop," she whimpers as she swipes at her eyes with the backs of her hands. "I don't want to be a guest," she whispers. "I want to live with you, properly. In your bedroom. In your bed. I want to listen to you snore every night and wake up with your hard on pushing into my back every morning," she giggles adorably.

"I don't snore," I huff, relieved at her words.

"You so do," she counters with a grin. "Ask me again, without selling it to me," she says, "just tell me what you want."

"I want to live with you. Every day and every night," I say honestly. "I think I'm falling in love with you and I don't want to be apart," I say simply.

Those gorgeous chocolate brown eyes get wide as she stares up into mine. "Yes," is all she says.

I kiss her deeply but softly, trying to infuse it with all the emotion I could. I hope she understands when I pull away, unable to go any further than just the kiss.

I'm still a little fuzzy and a lot exhausted from the attack the night before. My hands still shake a little and I doubt that I'd be able to perform, even with Isabella who turns me inside out and usually makes me feel like a teenager again.

"How do you want to do this?" she whispers against my lips when we do separate a little.

"I can't do this," I chuckle, hoping she isn't offended.

"You've changed your mind already?" she shouts as she leaps away.

"No," I tell her loudly and firmly. "I meant I can't do this," I say, pointing to my crotch and then to hers stupidly. "I'm too knackered still," I tell her sadly.

She's giggling then, swatting at my bicep. "I know _that_," she laughs. "I thought you'd changed your mind about me staying with you already. Fastest relationship ever," she laughs as I stand, doing up the buttons on my shirt as I go.

"Tonight," I tell her with a wink, "when I get home tonight I'll be feeling much better."

"I won't hold you to that," she says quietly. "You've got a big day ahead and Seth told me that you take a while to recover," she says as we both go out of the dining room and back towards the kitchen. "I was asking how you wanted to go about me coming to stay with you."

She fills the kettle and pulls down two clean mugs from an overhead cupboard. I finish doing up my tie and ask for a little more sugar in my tea before pulling out one of the stools under the counter.

"Will you come today?" I ask as she fills both mugs with the boiling water.

"If you want me to," she says as she slides my mug towards me.

"I want you to," I grin. "You can bring enough things for a few days with you today and I'll organise someone to come and collect the rest on Monday maybe?" I offer, not having thought through all the logistics myself yet.

"That'd work for me," she grins back. "It might take me a while to sell this place and even then I doubt I'd have enough to pay you a whole lot."

"Pay me for what?" I ask.

"Nobody lives for free, Edward," she scolds.

I think on that for a bit while I sip my tea. "Don't sell it," I say eventually, looking around at the place. "It's in a good area and you probably chose it because it was close to campus. You could rent it out to another student," I suggest. "That way someone else pays it off for you."

"That's a good idea but it doesn't solve the issue of me being able to pay my way at your house," she says matter of factly.

"Do you owe anything for your tuition?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "No, I used my savings to pay all my tuition for this year already."

"Any other debts, besides this place?" I ask.

She shakes her head again. "No. I have a car but I own it outright, so all I'll still have to cover is the registration and insurance on that, but no. I got a bonus from your mother for pulling the fun fair together so quickly and I used some of that to pay the mortgage here for the next six months, the rest I used to buy textbooks and materials."

"Smart girl," I grin. "You'll still be working part time for Jasper, right?"

"One or two days a week when I don't have classes, yes," she confirms.

"Okay. So if you come and live with me and rent this place out that'll pay the mortgage, that you're already in front of, and you'll still have your income from doing the books at Jasper's. How about you chip in a little for the food bill at my place and we'll call it even?" I ask, even though I'd love nothing more than to cover her bills and anything else she might need. But I was smart enough to know not to offer to do that.

"What about electricity, gas, water and all the other shit?" she asks.

I think on it again, trying to find a way to make her expenses pretty much nil when I hit on an idea. "Seth and Jared will be driving us both from now on so you won't need your car," I say carefully, trying not to sound as though I was organising her whole life for her, even though I really did want to. "You could sell that and the money you saved on registration and insurance you could chip in some of that to cover the other bills."

"How do I pay Jared?" she asks and I'm not quick enough to hide my reaction. "Don't bother spilling your guts," she giggles, "Seth already told me."

"Disloyal bastard," I mutter under my breath. "Look," I say cautiously, "Seth's budget for security is huge, he doles it out as he sees fit. It more than covers having Jared on the books full time for you. I'll return what you've already paid and you can use it to pay next year's tuition."

She eyes me carefully for a moment and I start to think of alternative arguments for why I was right when she smiles. "Deal," she says matter of factly, leaving me stunned. "Now call Seth and get moving or I won't see you again until midnight."

**BPOV**

He looked stupidly happy with himself as he went into the living room to call Seth. I knew he wanted to just pay for everything for me, I knew how generous he was, and I wasn't opposed to him buying me dinner and flying me to Melbourne every now and then, but living expenses I drew the line at.

I knew he'd only let me pay a pittance of what a house like his cost to run, and I also knew he'd make sure I never saw any of the actual bills so I wouldn't work out that I was paying a whole lot less than what my share should be, but I liked it when he smiled, so I caved.

There was plenty of time to have regular couples fights over money and I was grateful for that. Having time. Time with him. Together and alone whenever we wanted, without having to push past the press at my building. Curled on his new sofa and splashing in that spa bath and the pool.

I must have been grinning about the thought of that when he came back in because he swooped in and kiss me hard. "Gorgeous smile," he whispered against my lips before pulling away. "Seth will be here in a minute and Emmett's already waiting for me at the office. Sorry you're going to be alone for most of today."

"Go and get your shit sorted," I say flippantly with a wave of my hand. "I've got some stuff to pack and a few errands to run."

"Can you text me your father's number at some point today please?" he asks out of the blue.

I eye him carefully, noting the beautiful smile on his lips. "Really?" I ask, not quite believing that he was serious. But he confirms that he is with a firm nod of his head. "Fine," I huff.

"I'll talk with your brother today too, just so you know," he warns, cheeky grin still firmly in place.

"Then I'll talk with your parents," I counter.

"Good, they'll like that," he says, thwarting my revenge plan totally. "I'll let Mrs Davis know that you're coming, Seth already knows and he'll tell Jared and Tyler, so do what you like when you get there. Put your stuff wherever you want, just shove mine aside or whatever you need," he says as pulls out his wallet. "I won't have time to go with you today, so if you want to buy anything for the house just use this," he says, handing me a credit card.

I let him put it in my hand but he knows I'm going to argue so he's all ready with his defence.

"It's a guy's house, Isabella," he says with a sigh. "Black and chrome isn't your thing and to be honest I'm a bit sick of it too. It's so much nicer here, with your colours and patterns," he says waving his hand around the living room. "I want to tell you that I'll go with you, that we'll pick out some things together, but I won't have time for a few days yet and I want you to be comfortable there, sorry."

"You don't have to keep apologising for needing to work," I tell him as I put the card on the end table and step up against his chest. "I know what I'm getting, moving in with you," I tell him softly as I cup his jaw with my fingers. "I'll buy a new comforter and some cushions for the sofa in your sitting room, the rest we'll shop for together when you have time."

"Thank you," he sighs before turning his lips into my palm and kissing it. "You still want to come to Melbourne with me next week?" he asks, his grin back in place when I say that I do. "We'll shop there then. There's a ton of places we can go."

"I'd like that," I tell him before getting up onto my toes to kiss his lips.

The knock on the door stops me from having a crack at molesting him just a little bit more than I should. I let him go and go to let Seth in.

"Call Alice," Edward calls out from the living room, "she likes to shop, right?"

**EPOV**

Seth has to huff his annoyance to get me out of the apartment and I go, very grudgingly, after stealing just one more kiss and after hearing her promise to be at the house when I got there later.

I virtually skip down the hall and into the lift, ignoring Seth's chuckle and his grin. I rush past the press and do my best to ignore their questions about my black eye as I make my way to the waiting car.

"Where to, kid?" Seth asks once he's in the driver's seat.

"The office," I tell him as I pull out my phone. "Drop me off and then I need you to find me a moving company that can pack, shift and deliver Monday."

"Are we moving?" he asks with a laugh.

"We're not, but Isabella is," I say smugly.

"I'll find some movers then," he chuckles as he pulls out into the traffic.

"Good morning Mrs Davis," I say into my phone once it's answered. "I have good news. I've asked Isabella to move in with me and she's agreed. Could you clear out some space in my closet for her things please?"

"Oh that's wonderful news," she says happily and I can imagine her hopping from foot to foot at the thought of someone else to take care of in the house. "When is she coming?"

"Today, in a few hours, maybe this afternoon," I tell her uncertainly. "She's just bringing a few things for now and the rest will arrive on Monday."

"I'll make sure everything's ready," she tells me and I thank her, knowing she would.

As I hang up I receive a text on my personal phone and pull it out of my pocket to read it. It's from Isabella and it's a phone number followed by the words 'good luck'.

"Trouble?" Seth asks as he glances at me in the rearview mirror.

"Of a sort," I mumble, already rethinking the intelligence of being so old fashioned. "Charlie Swan is going to kick my ass," I mumble as I save the number.

"I did, it was sort of therapeutic," Seth laughs.

"Thanks," I reply sarcastically, "I'm glad I saved you some time on a therapists couch."

"Why are we heading to the office?" he asks as he shifts lanes to take the correct exit that will lead to my building.

"I'm holding a press conference this afternoon and Emmett's team is going to help me draft what I want to say."

He stares at me again in the mirror before speaking. "With a black eye and split lip?" he asks.

"With a black eye and split lip," I confirm.

"About fucking time," he mumbles.

I ignore the comment even though I agreed with it and moved on to the next order of business. "Give Jared and Tyler a heads up that they'll both be needed today, maybe more than one trip back and forth to her apartment. Kate's on the boat this weekend so you're going to have to fill in for her for some things, sorry."

"As long as I don't have to wear a skirt I'm good with that," he chuckles as we pull into the garage beneath the building.

"You'd look okay as long as it was loose, you couldn't pull of a tight one," I chuckle as I get out of the car. "Bring me my briefcase at some point today too please," I ask when he's joined me.

"Whatever you need," he says with a wave of his hand. He hands me a small foil packet and I turn it over and read that it's my anxiety medication. "Put those in your jacket pocket and we're not arguing about this again, got it?" he says firmly.

I stare down at the tablets and hope I won't need them again today. I slip them into the inside pocket of my jacket. "I'm outing myself today," I mumble but he hears me.

"All of it?" he asks.

"Yeah. If I do it on my own terms it's worth nothing to anyone," I tell him, echoing Isabella's wise words from earlier.

"Exactly," he agrees. "All my phones will be on. Your wish is my command," he says with a flourish of his hands and a grin.

"Just bring my briefcase and organise the movers for now," I tell him as I make my way to the lift bank.

"On it, boss," he calls as he gets back into the car.

I feel strange striding through the building with nothing in my hands and because it's Saturday the whole ground floor is empty as I go through the lobby. There's no receptionist to greet me, no doorman because the only people here are on the top floors and they all park in the basement like me, and we aren't open to the public on weekends.

I take the lift to the top floor, take a deep breath as the doors of the carriage open and as I walk out and head for my office I start shouting for Emmett and his team to join me.

They file in, one after another, and as Emmett sits in the chair opposite my desk the rest of them line the walls, note pads at the ready.

"Scrap every statement you've already drafted," I tell them all. "I have a story to tell you and then you can help me draft a statement to deliver to the press in my own voice."

"About fucking time," Emmett mutters, just as Seth had.

"It is," I agree firmly as I pull my favourite pen out from my jacket pocket and pull a notepad towards me. "Right," I begin when everyone's pens are poised and ready, "I grew up with a girl named Tanya Denali..."

**BPOV**

I stare down at the list on the kitchen counter and wonder what I've forgotten.

I look around myself at my apartment and realise that I'm not going to miss it.

I dial the number with one hand, tell myself 'onward to better things' mentally and pick up the red pen to run it through the first thing on the list with my free hand. "It's Bella Swan calling for Mrs Cullen," I tell the voice on the other end when the call connects. I wait as patiently as I can while whoever it was tracks Esme down and when she comes on the line I inform her that I've agreed to move in with her son.

"Oh Bella," she all but cries, "that's such wonderful news, dear. I'm so happy for you both. What can I do to help with the move?"

I spend the next ten minutes assuring her that I don't need anything, that Jared and Tyler were already on their way to take the things I could fit into their cars and that Edward had given me his credit card for anything else I needed. I was careful to make sure she knew that I wouldn't be using it.

"Nonsense," she says when I'm done. "That house of his looks like a bachelor pad," she huffs. "It needs some colour and you're just the woman to make it look like a home instead of a house."

"It's fine," I tell her.

"It's not and he must realise that too if he's given you his card. Think about it and let me know if you'd like some help spending some of his money," she giggles.

"I will," I promise.

"What will you do with your apartment?" she asks and I tell her about Edward's idea to lease it. "That's a very good idea," she agrees. "When Edward himself was at the university he rented an apartment near campus too, so I don't think you'll have any trouble finding a tenant."

"There's a bulletin board and newsletters for each of the departments that usually run ads for places so I'll list it there."

"Wait," she says and I hear the shuffling of papers at her end. "Do you have a pen?" she asks and when I say I do she gives me a phone number to write down. "That's Ben Cheney's number. He's the admissions advisor. I'm pretty sure he'd have a list of people waiting for accommodation. Give him a call."

I'm grateful for the information and tell her so. We hang up after I've again apologised for missing dinner the night before and have agreed to come the following week instead.

I call Ben, introduce myself and explain how I got his number, and he took down my address and the details of its location and how much I'd need to rent it for to cover my expenses. He gave me a list of reputable real estate agencies that the university already dealt with for student leases and then he promised to email me a checklist I should read over regarding landlord insurance and tenancy laws.

He says to call him as soon as I've registered the property with one of the agents, and I've changed my insurance, and he'll have a list of prospective tenants ready to go.

It was that simple. One phone call and I had information and a plan.

My next call is to Alice who squeals when I give her my news. She agrees to break it to my brother but says she won't be doing it gently. She reminds me that he's only my brother, not my keeper, and I leave it to her to tell him.

We arrange to talk again soon and I hang up happy that she was happy for me.

I snatch up my list from the counter and take it with me to my bedroom. I pull down my only suitcase and start packing what I'd need for the next few days into it.

I clear out my bathroom and put all that into the only two boxes I could find the apartment. I text Jared and ask him to find me some more before I go to my desk and start gathering what I'd need for school immediately and stack the rest to go later.

An hour later Jared and Tyler come back and announce that both cars are as full as they can get without needing to strap me to the roof and I'm left standing in my kitchen wondering what to do with all the food that will spoil.

"I'll come back," Tyler offers. "I'll bring coolers and pack it up and drop it off at a soup kitchen. What do you think?" he asks.

"I think that's brilliant, thank you," I tell him as I grab my backpack and keys. I'm about to shut the door for the last time when a thought strikes me. "What did the press say?" I ask Jared.

"Unfortunately they're not stupid," he cringes.

"I didn't think so," I mutter darkly. "Oh well, they'd have figured it out when I didn't come back here again anyway. Let's do this," I tell him firmly and we set off towards the lift.

The press are rampant as we go outside. They shout out questions and push and shove the boys as they flank me. I flinch when one of them asks me if I'm going into hiding and cringe when one asks me if I want to comment on who gave Edward his black eye. I stop dead when one asks me to comment on whether it was Jake who did the deed.

"Don't rise," Jared warns as he grabs my arm and tugs me forward.

I throw the evil eye to the journo who'd asked the question and then start walking with the two boys flanking me to the waiting cars. Jared gets me settled into the passenger seat, the backseat being stacked with boxes, and then we're off.

"Home, Jared," I say dryly and he laughs.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mrs Davis is helping me put my things into Edward's closet when Seth calls.

"What's up?" I answer.

"The boss wants to know if you want to come down to the office while he makes his statement?" he asks.

"He's going to do it now?" I ask, my stomach doing flip flops for him already.

"No time like the present," Seth drawls but there's something in his voice that makes me balk.

"Give me the pros and cons please?" I ask instead of saying I'll come right away.

"He'll be less nervous if you're here, but if you aren't the questions afterwards will be focused more on business than his personal life," he says. "On the other hand, he may lose his temper if the questions are personal right from the off, so you being here might help him keep calm."

"You'll bring him home right after?" I ask.

"He's good to go the instant he steps away," he replies. "Emmett's ready to step in and answer any business related questions right away."

"What are the chances of him having a panic attack during his statement?"

"Fifty-fifty," he sighs. "But those are the same odds I'd give you even if you were here."

"If it was you what would you do?" I ask, still unsure.

"He's making the statement because he needs to set the record straight about himself, not you or the two of you as a couple, so I'd stay away. Let the press see him on his own turf. Let him show them that he's capable of doing this on his own. But that's just me," he says softly.

"Then I'll stay away," I tell him firmly. "But I want to talk to him before he starts. That's my only request."

"Done. I'll have him call you once the press have arrived," he tells me before hanging up.

"We'll watch it on the news channel," Mrs Davis says as I set my phone back onto the bedside table. "I'll put the kettle on and we'll have some cake while we wait."

We stash the rest of the box of clothing into the closet and then make our way downstairs to the kitchen. I sit, because she won't let me help, while she makes coffee and slices a delicious looking chocolate cake for us.

"I'm so pleased he's going to do this," she says as she tidies up. "All the mystery surrounding him just makes the press rabid for any snippet of information," she sighs as we head towards the living room.

"I know," I agree. "Everyone I've talked to today says that it's about time he set the record straight too."

We set our mugs and plates on the coffee table and she takes up the remote control, turning on the news channel that's running a banner ad along the bottom of the screen giving a countdown to the press conference.

The presenter craps on about whatever else is making news that day but I'm not listening. I doubt Mrs Davis is either. I can't take my eyes off that banner ad. I'm so nervous for him. So worried that the stress and pressure he must be feeling will set off another attack in front of the press.

I jump when my phone rings and snatch it up. Mrs Davis mouths that she'll be in the kitchen when I'm ready and I nod my thanks to her as I answer.

"Hey," I say simply, too nervous to say much else.

"Hey," he replies. "I w-wish you were here b-but I understand w-why you aren't," he says and I can hear the stammer in his voice already.

"I want to be there," I reassure him, "but it's better for you this way."

"I'm n-nervous," he chuckles, "j-just in case you c-couldn't tell."

"Are you doing it from behind your desk?"

"No, there's a l-lectern set up in the foyer."

"Grip it with your fingers," I say softly. "Hold onto it so you don't sway. Look above the person at the very back of the group. Take deep breaths between sentences," I rush out.

"Y-you come and d-do it," he laughs. "Y-you know all the, the, the tricks."

His stammer is getting worse and I get more and more worried. "Are you happy with your statement?" I ask, trying to steer him away from the fear of actually speaking it out loud.

"Em's d-done a g-great job," he says.

"Mrs Davis and I are going to watch it on the news channel. We've got cake," I say stupidly.

"Save me some for when I g-get home," he says, still stammering but only once a sentence now I notice.

"Home," I whisper, "come home to me."

"Yeah," he whispers too, "I'm coming home to you," he says clearly for the first time on the whole call.

"I'll be waiting and then we can get on with whatever this is between us," I say cheekily, reminding him of a previous conversation.

"This thing between us," he says clearly and I can tell that he's shaking off his nerves, "is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. I'm going to get this done and come home to you, my beautiful girl, and then we'll get on with this thing between us."

"Good luck," I tell him quietly.

"I'm coming," I hear him tell whoever it is that's hurrying him up. "I've got to go," he tells me. "Save me some cake, beautiful."

**EPOV**

Emmett claps me on the back as I leave the haven of the small office I'd been stashed in to speak with Isabella. "Chin up," he reminds me as I nod firmly.

The click, click, click of the cameras is distracting as I walk to the lectern. The hum and buzz of all the recording devices a little annoying because I still had a headache but it was the racket of a lobby full of journalists all shouting questions at me that really pissed me off.

I adjust my cuffs idly while I wait for Seth to take up his position at the back of the room and once he gives me a curt nod I look down for half a second, reread the opening line of my statement, raise my head and I'm off.

* * *

"He's going to be alright," Carlisle whispered to his wife as they perched on the edge of his desk to watch their son on the small television screen.

"Bella's moving in with him today," Esme whispers back as she reaches for his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

They both gasp with pride as Edward begins his speech by berating the very journalists that have come to record his statement.

"The grandbabies they're going to give us are going to be amazing," Carlisle whispers before kissing his wife on the cheek softly.

* * *

"Look, Amelia, there's daddy with Uncle Ed," Rosie says excitedly as she bounces baby Liam on her knee.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy," Amelia chants as she points to the little television screen that sits on top of the kitchen counter. "Unca Ed, Unca Ed, Unca Ed," she chants when her very favourite playmate comes onto the screen.

"Da, da, da," Liam gurgles right before puking down his mothers shoulder.

"Jesus, Liam," Rosalie complains as she stands to retrieve a cloth from the sink, "he was just getting stuck into that bitch Tanya Denali. You couldn't wait one more minute?" she asks the squirming baby as she wipes his face. "No Amelia!" she shouts as she watches her daughter's spaghetti lunch decorate the tiles, again.

* * *

"Motherfucker," Jake hissed as he turned the volume up on his car radio.

'_I will continue to pursue a contract deal with Malita Steel. Mr Black's comments regarding the stood down director of that company are Mr Black's opinion and not shared by anyone associated with Cullen Enterprises. The contract price was changed post submission to the overseeing committee because I was made aware of a contra deal that Malita Steel had with Doctors without Borders, to supply a portion of the surgical instrumentation made gratis to that organisation. _

'_The documentation to support my claim is available to anyone who wishes to see it at the overseeing committee as well as in the Cullen Enterprises prospectus that is available both online and from right here in the lobby of the building itself. _

'_Mr Black's professional vendetta against myself and my workforce has the potential to ruin a deal that could see thousands of much needed medical instruments denied to those who need it most and I urge Mr Black to consider his comments, and seek appropriate legal advice, in the future before making such outrageous claims. _

'_I cannot comment further about that whilst the matter is pending a decision before the courts. I refer you to my legal counsel Mr Cauis Volturi if you have further questions about the case he has filed against Mr Black on my behalf.'_

"Motherfucker," Jake swore again as he narrowly missed hitting the Jaguar in front of him. Desperate to hear the rest of the press conference without having an accident he pulls his car out of traffic and pulls to a stop in a side street.

'_It is true that Mr Black was once engaged to Isabella Swan, who now resides with me. That is a personal matter and I will not, under any circumstances whatsoever, answer questions pertaining to my private life regarding my relationship with Miss Swan._

'_Further to that I met with Mr Black at my property yesterday and we have come to an understanding. Mr Black will cease his personal vendetta against myself and Miss Swan with the view to preventing certain aspects of his own private life being made public.'_

"You bastard," Jake screeched, his body shaking with rage at the not so subtle threat.

'_It was agreed that there will be no further contact between Mr Black and Miss Swan, or between myself and Mr Black. In the interests of full disclosure I must make it clear that Mr Black is not the individual with whom I fought, nor is he responsible for my injuries.'_

"Someone finally punched you, you fucker," Jake snarled as he hit the steering wheel in triumph. "Whoever it was better not have fucked up that pretty face of yours though," he whispered to himself.

'_My split lip and black eye was delivered to me at the hand of my personal bodyguard Mr Seth Clearwater. Take a bow Seth. Mr Clearwater and I had an agreement that if at any time it looked as though I was behaving in such a manner as to jeopardise my relationship with Miss Swan it would be pertinent for Mr Clearwater to knock some sense into me. _

'_It is with great pleasure that I inform you all that he did and it worked.'_

"You smug prick," Jake seethed as his phone began to ring. He turned the radio down and answered the call to his legal counsel.

"I've just received notification that a libel suit has been filed in the Melbourne Magistrates Court against you," his lawyer says evenly. "I warned you, Jake. I warned you that one day that mouth of yours was going to get you into trouble. And here that day is."

"It's defendable," Jake spat into his phone. "I was careful about what I said."

"It won't matter," the lawyer sighed. "Nobody will care what the specifics are after listening to his press conference. You went too far, Jake. He's got you and you know it."

Jake hung up while his lawyer was mid sentence, not wanting to hear any more about how Edward Cullen had outsmarted, outwitted and outshined him.

Jake sat back in his seat, lit himself a cigarette and turned the radio up so he could listen to the smooth, velvet voice of the only man he'd ever loved one last time.

* * *

"Did you know that Edward suffered severe anxiety attacks?" Alice asked, tears in her eyes as she crossed the kitchen and dumped the icing bowl into the sink.

"He seemed so together to me," Jasper replies as he hands her a tissue from the box on the high shelf above his range. "I wonder if Bell's knew?"

"Listen," Alice said, pointing to the radio that sat on the same shelf as the tissue box.

'_I want to make it clear that my condition in no way hinders my ability to run and oversee this company and its many subsidiaries. I have suffered these attacks for almost my whole life, and definitely since being at university and during the time that I began the first of the companies that now encompasses Cullen Enterprises. _

'_I urge everyone to make themselves aware of the condition and its treatments. I urge everyone to find out what an attack looks and sounds like and I urge anyone who suffers these attacks to come forward and make those around them aware of it. _

'_When in the throes of a severe attack I need help. Help to maintain my balance and my breathing. Help to be put into the recovery position and help to obtain and take my medication. Without the love, support and help of those around me the attacks would be more frequent and certainly be more dangerous. _

'_The Beyond Blue organisation is a national support system for sufferers of anxiety and their friends and families. Please support the vital work they do in the community. Please visit their website, and others like it, and make yourself aware of what to do for someone who you find exhibiting symptoms.'_

"She must have known," Alice replies to her fiancé's question after they've both listened to Edward speak. "I mean, she has panic attacks herself. Nothing like what he goes through obviously, but she'd know the signs and how to help him, right?"

"Must have," Jasper agrees. "Bloody stupid anyone thinking he can't run a company because he has panic attacks," he scoffs. "I mean, he's a bloody gazillionaire already, had to have been pretty good at his job to get that far and he says he's had this shit going on his whole life."

"I like him," Alice announces as she takes another tray of cupcakes out of the massive oven.

"We'd better still be going racing next weekend," Jasper whines as he scrapes down his grill after taking the mountain of ribs off it for tomorrows event.

"We're checking out flowers for the wedding," Alice protests.

"I'm racing with Ed, take Bella," Jasper grins.

"You're coming with me."

"I'm not."

"You so are."

"Am not."

"I won't put out if you don't," Alice smiles sweetly.

"I want roses," Jasper huffs, knowing when he's beaten.

"Good boy," Alice chirps.

* * *

'_The implication that steel I've mined and smelted will be used to form weapons for use in a rebel led coup in a foreign country is not only false but also deeply offensive. Malita Steel is a reputable company with whom I've dealt on numerous occasions with the full support of the overseeing committee for international trade. _

'_The personal political views of one of its directors will not and should not tarnish the good name of the parent company. _

'_As for the claim that the retooling work at the former Equity Steel site in Gladstone is associated in any way with the retooling that would be required to make weapons is an outrageous lie. I have never attempted to, nor will I ever attempt to, withhold information or plans for retooling from the relevant government authority. _

'_I have filed, and will continue to file, all necessary documents with the office of Fair Trade as is the current requirement for the mining of and smelting of steel in this country. _

'_Mr Black has commented recently that a full inquiry into the practises in place at the current Equity Steel site be held. I welcome any such inquiry and would like it expanded to encompass all of the subsidiaries of Cullen Enterprises. I have nothing to hide and I vow to be forthcoming should any inquiry be launched.'_

Charlie Swan pushes his heels into the footrest of his recliner and returned it to a sitting position as he turned the volume down on his television set.

"Good lad," he said with a grin as he took up his telephone and dialled.

"Welcome to Bartlett and Applebee, Annette speaking, to whom can I direct your call," the woman said when she answered.

"Hi Annette, its Charlie Swan calling for Miss Coates if she's available?"

"Sure Charlie, please hold," she says cheerily as Charlie turns to watch the television screen for a little bit while he waits. "Transferring you now, Charlie."

"Hey Charlie, what can I do for you?" a woman says as she takes up the call.

"Hey Victoria, I wanted to thank you for the identity information you sent me," Charlie says sincerely. "But I don't think I'll be needing the case histories after all. Turns out the guy I was investigating is as clean as a whistle."

"Not good for your bank balance Charlie," Victoria laughs as she begins typing. "But good news about your target."

"Yeah, it's great news," Charlie agrees with a grin.

"Okay, I've just removed your request for the files," she confirms and Charlie lets out his held breath. "Let me know who your next target is and we'll set up another request."

"Thanks Victoria, nice doing business with you," Charlie says with real affection.

"Always a pleasure," she replies.

"Thanks again," Charlie says before ending the call. He sets his phone back on the end table by his recliner and takes up the remote control, turning the volume back up on the television.

* * *

"I'm sorry Miss, but your card's been declined," the girl said as she pushed the credit card back across the counter.

"Try it again," Tanya snapped before returning her attention to the Facebook app on her phone.

The girl swipes the card again, Tanya uses one blood red painted talon to tap in the security number, and then the machine flashes red, again.

"It says it's declined and you should contact your bank," the girl shrugged as she began to take the dresses and skirts back out of the bag she'd packed them into.

"Ridiculous," Tanya spits. "Do not put those back on the shelf," she hisses at the girl. "I'll be back for them."

With that she stalks out of the shop, turns to go towards the exit doors of the shopping mall and once she's outside she lights a cigarette and dials on her phone.

"Daddy, something's wrong with my card again. It won't work and the dress I was trying to buy is the last one in my size," she whines when the call connects.

"There's nothing wrong with the card, I had it cancelled," Eleazar sighs to his daughter, used to those types of calls, and no greeting.

"Why would you do that?" Tanya screeches, stomping on the ground like a three year old throwing a tantrum over a sweet.

"I begged you to come home, Tanya," Eleazar said as evenly as he could manage under the circumstances. "I told you to come home and explain yourself to me but you refused. I warned you what I would do if you didn't, and I warned you what would happen if you used the money in your trust fund for anything untoward."

"You're going to cut me off?" she shrieks as a woman holding a little girls hand pulls the child closer as she throws Tanya a wary look.

"No, I've already cut you off," Eleazar informs his daughter sadly. "You used ten thousand dollars from your trust account to pay a journalist to discredit my oldest and dearest friends son, Tanya. What exactly did you expect me to do?"

"It didn't work anyway so I don't see the problem," Tanya simpers, a little more calmly now she knew why her father was being so mean.

"You're right, it didn't work," Eleazar agreed. "And lucky for you he isn't hunting you down, though I can't be sure he hasn't sent someone to find you," he sighs. "As of this instant you are on your own, Tanya. I've tried to be a good father to you but at thirty-six I think it's time you stood on your own two feet and made your own way in the world."

"But I'm at the Gold Coast, daddy," Tanya whimpered, the panic slowly starting to set in as she thought about her father's words and how serious he sounded. "How will I get home?"

"I told you to come home a week ago," Eleazar reminded her. "You still had access to money a week ago and you ignored my requests and my insistence. My advice is to make the most of what you've prepaid for at whatever hotel you're staying at and use the three years of university I paid for all those years ago to get a job to pay for your return trip. Oh, and turn on a television or a radio."

Tanya was about to start crying, which had always worked on her father in the past, but the call had been disconnected at his end. She withdrew the phone from her ear and stared at it for a long, long time.

He'd hung up on her. He'd cut off her trust account and he'd left her alone and incapable a thousand miles from home.

The call she placed to her sister went unanswered, as did the one she placed to Jake.

As she looked around her at the parking lot Tanya began to tremble. She was alone, away from home and for the first time in her life without unlimited access to money.

Opening her wallet she counted the money she had in cash and sighed. "Thirty-seven dollars," she wails at the lack of funds. "Okay Edward," she mumbled as she dialled, "Now's your chance to make up for all the times you've let me down."

The call went unanswered, as it always did.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading. **

**This is the last chapter of the regular story. **

**The next one is made up of small vignettes that give you an idea of what happens over the coming months.**

**Please review.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Sunday, One day after Edward's press conference**

**EPOV**

"Can I wear this?" I ask nervously as I step out of the walk in closet.

"You can wear whatever you want," she says flippantly, not even bothering to turn and look at what I had on.

"But will everyone be in jeans and t-shirts?" I ask, rubbing my scalp with my palm uneasily.

This time she does turn. Her lips form an adorable grin as she takes me in. "I never take any notice of what anyone wears," she says simply. "If you're comfortable wearing that then wear that. Nobody will care, we don't meet to check each other out, we go to eat greasy food and gossip," she giggles as she pulls on her own clothes.

"Gossip," I chuckle as I go back into the closet to choose a jacket that went with my slacks. A thought strikes me as I come back out with it. "You did give Seth the details of this cafe, didn't you?" I ask.

"Yep," she says, popping the p. "He and Jared have already checked it out and declared it safe," she tells me as she collects her wallet and keys from the bedside cabinet.

"Good," I say, no less nervous despite knowing the guys had checked it over.

"What's bothering you about this?" she asks as she comes to me and smooths down the collar of my button down. "Is it the venue, that you haven't met my friends before or are you worried about what they'll think of you after yesterday?"

"A little of A, some of B and a whole lot of C," I reply, trying to make my voice sound jovial but failing badly, very badly.

She gets up onto her toes and kisses me under my chin, making me wish we could go back to bed and stay there for the day rather than go to brunch.

"You know Alice and Jaz and you know they like you already," she tells me matter of factly though I have reservations about her brother liking me at all. "Peter and Charlotte are great. Really down to earth and they're going to like you too, I know it."

"But after y-yesterday," I stammer, mentally kicking myself for allowing the 'tell' to show in my voice.

"Shhh," she soothes as she runs her fingers through my hair. "After yesterday the whole country sees you differently. And that's a good thing. It's what needed to happen. And if anyone judges you harshly because you have anxiety attacks then you don't want to know them anyway. I can guarantee you that my friends won't fall into that category. They're nice people."

"Don't leave my side," I beg.

"I wouldn't anyway," she smiles up at me. "And that's nothing to do with what happened yesterday either," she says as she skips away to collect her shoes. "I wouldn't leave your side because I want to be with you and I want you to be comfortable with my friends and family."

"Okay," I whisper, hoping she meant it.

"Now, let's go, we don't want to be late because Peter hogs all the cheesy bread," she laughs as she tugs on my sleeve.

Seth meets us at the foot of the stairs. "Let's go people, I'm starving," he tells us as we get there too.

"Me too," Jared adds as he comes to the door via the kitchen. "We ready, bosses?" he asks.

"Chins up, smiles on, and we're moving," Seth reminds us as we file out the door.

**BPOV **

I hadn't lied to him about my friends. They were nice people and they wouldn't ever judge him for his condition, or anything at all, and I knew that about them before I asked him to join us at the cafe.

They did ask questions though, like any normal people would. They didn't pry, and their questions were respectful, but ask they did. Was he really suing Jake? Were we really living together? Did his bodyguard really slot him? Things like that, but nothing about his anxiety issues.

He'd answered everything honestly, and I knew he was being honest because I knew the answers for myself.

He'd fidgeted and stammered a little at the beginning but by the time the second round of coffees was brought to the table he was noticeably more relaxed.

Both Jaz and Alice had greeted him warmly when we'd arrived and Charlotte and Peter had warmed up to him without me needing to prod or poke them. He was a likeable guy on his own and didn't need me helping him out. So I didn't.

"This is so good," he moaned around another slice of cheesy bread.

"I told you," I whispered, nudging his bicep with mine.

The gossip was flowing freely back and forth between the six of us. We'd dissected the enigma that was Mike, Jessica and Lauren and all had a good laugh as Jaz and Alice filled us in on what they'd been up to on jobs recently. It seemed the 'kitchen bitching' was still alive and strong, even in my absence.

We laughed and joked as Peter told us about a guy who had come into his panel beating workshop the week before asking for someone to take a look at a 'rattling noise, sort of like something knocking' coming from under his car.

Turned out it was an orange that had fallen out of a grocery bag weeks before and was rolling around, knocking at each side every time the guy hit the brakes.

Charlotte, a dental nurse who was currently doing a stint in a mobile dental van that travelled to schools, kept us in stitches describing some of the kids she'd had in the van the week before.

"What about you, Edward?" Peter asked as he reached across to score the last slice of brioche. "Besides the obvious, what's going on for you?"

I felt him stiffen beside me and his hand squeezed my thigh under the table just a little harder than normal, but then he recovered.

"Jaz and I are racing to The Entrance next weekend," he said, quite proudly I thought.

And then we were off again, with Alice arguing that Jasper wasn't going. With both me and Charlotte offering to go with her to look at the flowers instead. With Jasper begging her to let him go 'play with his friends' and with Edward promising her 'he'd have him home in time to do his homework, mom'.

We sat there for hours. Laughing, talking, gossiping and planning to meet again the following Sunday.

When it was time to leave I asked Edward to let me give the signal to the guys.

"Go ahead," he grinned, nodding to my glass of water.

"Signal?" Alice asked across the table.

"Watch," Edward chuckled.

I swigged the last of the water from the glass and then tapped it three times on the tabletop as casually as I could.

I couldn't see the guys very well from my position, but Alice and Peter could. So I watched their faces instead.

"Holy shit," Peter crowed, which made me think the boys had seen my signal and were on the move. "That's so cool," he whistled as Jared came to stand at my side and Seth came to stand by Edward.

A loud goodbye was shared between the six of us and then we were ushered outside, past the press who had been clicking away all morning, and into the waiting Mercedes.

"Thank you," Edward told me before he kissed my palm. "I had a great time and they're all wonderful people, just like you said they were."

"They are," I tell him softly. "And I had a great time too, thanks for coming along."

**Wednesday, four days after Edward's press conference**

**BPOV**

Kate's grinning knowingly when I arrive at his office after my last class. My overnight bag sits beside Edward's to the side of her desk and she raises her eyebrows at them as I get closer.

"How was your weekend on the boat?" I ask as I approach her desk.

"Bliss," she swoons, hand to her heart. "We had such a great time."

"Good," I say honestly. "From what I hear you earned it."

"He threatened to fire me if I turned around," she huffed playfully, "I told him I'd turn around anyway."

"He told me," I grin. "I'm glad you didn't have to come back. So was he. And you don't have to worry about your job being secure, Seth sucked at it from what I hear."

"He messed up my desk," she scowls but there's laughter I her eyes. "Are you excited about your trip?" she asks as she gathers some papers and slips them into a yellow envelope.

"I couldn't sleep last night," I admit with a laugh.

"You'll have to tell me all about it next time you're in," she says in a normal voice, then lowers it conspiratorially, "The place you're booked to stay at is amazing and you're going to love where he's taking you for dinner tonight."

"We had lunch at the Glass Brasserie last week, I doubt anything could top that."

"This place might go close," she whispers, still sorting papers into envelopes before sealing them and stacking them into two neat piles.

"Any news on the Asia deal?" I ask hopefully.

Her smile gives me the answer before she can voice it. "These are the signed, completed contracts," she says, sounding as thrilled as I am about that. "He's done a great thing even if _some people_ can't see it yet."

"They will," I say matter of factly.

"Bell's!" I hear shouted from the doorway halfway down the length of the room.

Emmett's head is sticking out of that doorway so I tell Kate I'm going to hang out with him a minute if Edward's looking for me and then I make my way to towards the giant grinning man.

"Hey Em."

"Come in, come in," he says, tugging my sleeve and pulling me into what I assume is his office. "You're off to Melbourne, right?" he asks, grinning, his dimples on display.

"Yeah," I say warily, drawing out the syllables.

"Will you do something for me if you get a chance?" he asks, ducking his chin, making him look a little embarrassed.

"Sure, if I can," I hedge.

He takes out his wallet from his back pocket and hands me a crisp, brand new hundred dollar note. "If you're in the city, which I think you will be, right?" he asks and I nod, "and you end up at the markets, can you buy me as many dim sims as you can with that?" he asks, nodding towards the money.

I can't help the bark of laughter that comes out of my throat. "Dim sims?" I scoff. "I'm pretty sure they sell dim sims here, Em."

"I know they do, but not like the ones you can get there, and Rosie won't let me have them, and I fucking love 'em."

"A hundred dollars worth of dim sims?" I ask, eyebrows raised.

"You're coming back tomorrow so it's not like they'll go bad in your luggage," he shrugs. "Please, Bell's?" he whines and I cave.

Of course I cave. He looks so excited about his dim sims, how can I not?

"Okay Em," I tell him and he whoops like a little boy again. "Calm down big fella," I tease, "I'll do it but on one condition," I warn.

"Name it," he says, his eyes getting wide.

"If you get busted scoffing dim sims my name never gets mentioned, deal?" I ask, holding my hand out for him.

"Deal," he agrees right away and we shake on it. "You better get back out there or he'll know something's up," he grins.

I eye him carefully, "You've asked him to do this before, haven't you?" I ask and he nods. "And he's said no, hasn't he?"

"Yeah," he admits sheepishly. "But only because Rosie will bust his balls for feeding my habit."

"She won't be busting mine, will she Em?" I ask.

"No way," he says, "we've got a deal. She'll never find out they came from you. She'll assume he bought them for me anyway, so you'll be off the hook."

"I better be," I say as I leave his office. "See you tomorrow," I call as I go back towards Kate.

"He's asking for you," she tells me with a nod towards the closed office door opposite.

I knock and he calls me right in. he's still behind his desk and he's writing furiously on a notepad. "One last thing," he tells me, without raising his eyes, still scribbling away.

"Take your time," I tell him as I go around to his side of the desk and kiss him on the top of his head.

He finishes his note, rips the page off the pad and slides it into a folder before slamming it shut firmly. "All done," he says as he gets to his feet. He looks down at his watch and then finally looks at me. "I missed you today," he says as he lowers his mouth to mine.

I kiss him back, thinking it's going to just be a swift hello sort of kiss, but he's got other ideas.

He winds his fingers into my hair and pulls me harder up against his mouth. I groan as I slide up against his chest.

His tongue snakes out and traces my lip as he deepens the kiss and starts to tug rhythmically on my hair.

"So good," he moans against my throat as he trails his hot, wet lips towards where my shirt is parted. "I can't wait to be alone with you tonight," he growls as he kisses his way back up my throat and across to my ear. "No work to do, nowhere to be, just you and me," he whispers before licking the shell of my ear, "just you and me and a huge, huge bed and not a condom in sight."

"Oh god," I moan back. I couldn't wait to be skin to skin with him. I'd had a contraceptive implant put in and we were just waiting the required few days for it to be completely effective. "Are you taking me to Melbourne to molest me, Mr Cullen?" I tease, knowing we couldn't go any further while we were in his office.

He pulls away, as I knew he would, and grins down at me cheekily. "Definitely," he admits, cocking just one eyebrow. "Tonight you're all mine. No distractions. We'll turn our phones off and ignore knocks at the door. No television, no radio, no news channels and no press hovering just outside. And I'll finally, finally be able to make love to you without a barrier," he whispers against my lips before stepping away fully. "And once you've aided and abetted a known felon by feeding his dim sim habit tomorrow I can show you a good time that doesn't involve a bed."

**Six days later – after their return from Melbourne**

"Fuuuuck," Edward rasped, "you're going to kill me."

"What a way to go," Bella wheezed as she rolls sideways to her own side of the bed, dislodging him from inside her as she went.

"I fucking love it that you wake up horny," he growls against her shoulder before kissing it.

"Didn't think you'd mind that," Bella giggles, burrowing her face into the pillows and reaching for a little more sleep before the alarm went off.

"I'll start the shower lazy bones," he calls to her as he goes into his bathroom.

"Yeah," she mumbles as she tugs the covers up over her shoulder. "Ten more minutes."

"Don't forget I'm in court this morning," he calls as he starts the water, "I'll call you when I'm leaving."

He gets no answer and chuckles to himself about her being hard to get out of bed in the morning. He hears the alarm clock radio come on exactly ten minutes later while he's shaving.

A sluggish, bed headed Isabella joins him in the bathroom a moment later and after kissing his shoulder blade she climbs into the shower sleepily.

"Jared collecting you from class?" he asks as he taps his razor on the sink.

"Yeah, I finish at midday so he's going to take me to Jasper's right after," she mumbles as she washes the sleep from her eyes.

"Seth and I will pick you up from there then," he says as he rubs his hair with a towel one more time. "Dinner's not til six so we can stop into that bookshop you saw if you want?"

"Do I have to wear a dress for dinner?" she mumbles around her toothbrush.

"At this point you could turn up in overalls and a ski mask and my mother would still squeal when you show up," he chuckles as he hangs his towel back up and goes back into the bedroom to dress.

As he's sliding his cufflinks through the holes in his shirt a few minutes later the radio announces a break in regular scheduled transmission to bring a breaking news story.

'_A shocking discovery was made at a home in Bondi Beach this morning. The body of disgraced environmental lawyer Jacob William Black was discovered just after five-thirty this morning by his personal assistant. It's believed that the disgraced spokesperson for the National Conservation League was found naked in his home office. The police have released a statement saying the death is being treated as suicide as there are no signs of forced entry to the property and the deceased was clutching a note._

'_No details of the contents of the note have been released._

'_Mr Black was due in court this morning, the first day of hearings, to defend himself against a libel claim made by his well known rival Edward Cullen, CEO of Cullen Enterprises. _

'_In other news...'_

"Bella!" Edward shouted, the first time he'd ever shortened her name.

"What?" she calls back from the ensuite bathroom.

He appears in the doorway, his face ashen and his fingers shaking as he clutches his phone to his ear. "They just found Jake dead," he tells her matter of factly. He leaves her to her own shock as the call he'd placed connects. "Caius, its Edward. You've heard?"

Bella stands at the bathroom counter staring at herself in the mirror. In shock and unable to decide what to do she simply stands there and listens to Edward on the phone.

"What do I do?" he asks his lawyer. "Of course I have an alibi," he shouts, "because I wasn't fucking anywhere near the bastard!" he roars, startling her and making her jump. "She was with me all night. Seth and Jared were both here all night as well and her brother was here until midnight too. And the report I heard said it was being treated as a suicide anyway, we don't need alibis if he's topped himself, the fucking coward."

She stares at his reflection over her shoulder as he screams into the phone and wonders what it is that she should be doing herself.

She'd been engaged to the guy. She'd shared herself with him. She'd planned to build a future with him at one time.

But he'd hurt her. Both physically and mentally and even after their own personal relationship had broken down he still continued to try and hurt her by interfering in her new relationship.

Should she feel guilt or grief she wondered as she tilted her head to one side.

"I'll meet you at the courthouse at nine," Edward says before throwing his phone down onto the bed. "Isabella?" he asks, her full name falling from his lips in concern as he comes to stand behind her at the basin. "Are you alright?"

"I hated him," she whispers softly.

"I did too," he whispers back as he wraps his arms around her waist from behind and holds her close. "I didn't wish him dead, but I did hate him."

"I've wished him dead before," she whispers, her voice flat and monotone. "But now that he is I don't know how to feel."

"I feel relieved and frustrated," Edward tells her honestly. "Relieved because he can't hurt you ever again now and frustrated because I was going to win the case and he was going to give me a metric fuck ton of money."

"You don't need his money," she whispers.

"I don't, no," he agrees, "but I would've enjoyed taking it from him."

**Two weeks after the death of Jacob Black**

**EPOV **

"Are you ready?" I ask her as I come up from behind her, clasping her around the waist.

"One minute," she tells me as she reaches back into her makeup bag.

I watch as she leans forward and slicks on a thin coat of mascara. "You're beautiful," I tell her truthfully.

"You're biased," she teases, swatting at my hands.

"And we're going to be late," I warn before planting a kiss on her shoulder top.

Half an hour later and we're both feeling the pinch of nerves and anxiety as we rush through the throng of press that has gathered on the steps of the coroners court. Their shouted questions are disgusting, their disrespect for Jake's family sickening. The clicking of their cameras enraging me and making me come closer than ever before to lashing out at them.

"Bastards," Seth hisses at my side as he opens the glass door to let us through.

We find our way to the designated chamber that will be used to hand down the findings from the investigation into Jakes death and we find a small group gathered there as we approach.

Jake's lawyer, who I knew from the abandoned libel suit, stands off to one side and throws me the evil eye as I go by him.

"Edward," he said curtly.

"James," I say just as curtly.

We come to a stop at the edge of the group. Isabella slips her hand from mine and approaches a dark skinned older man. I listen to her whisper her condolences to him before she turns to me.

"Edward this is Jake's father, Billy. Billy this is Edward Cullen," she says as I approach, hand outstretched.

I tell him how sorry I am for his loss. He eyes me cautiously but does accept my hand to shake.

We move away then, Seth and Jared flanking us as we settle in a pair of chairs down the corridor just a little ways.

"Those are his sisters," Isabella whispers, nodding in the direction of two slim women who were dabbing at their eyes. "Rachel's the taller one, the other one's Rebecca."

"The big guy by the doors?" I whisper.

"Embry," she replies. "His personal assistant."

I'm visibly surprised and she raises an eyebrow at me in question. "I assumed his PA was a woman," I shrug.

"Embry's been his assistant as long as I can remember," she tells me softly as the doors to the chamber open and an officer of the court informs us that we can all go in.

**BPOV**

We sit in the very back, Jared to my left, Edward beside me and Seth beside him. There's a low buzz from the small crowd but it stops instantly when the judge arrives. We all stand until he tells us to sit.

The judge begins by proving Jake's identity. He tells us that he's satisfied that the body found at Jake's address that day was indeed Jake's and then he asks for the finding of the identity to be recorded.

Next there's a half hour where police who take the stand to give their accounts of what they saw and what they did after the emergency call was received by Embry. The paramedics are up next and they too tell the judge what they saw and what they did that day.

Embry cries steadily while he's asked questions about why he was at Jake's house, what time he arrived and what he found when he got there.

I'm not shocked to learn that the house was meticulously clean and ordered. I'm even less shocked to learn that Embry went there because Jake hadn't gone in to the office the day before and hadn't answered his phone. Jake was a workaholic and for him to not contact his office for a whole day would've made me worry about him too.

Next the doctor who treated Jake in the emergency room, and who pronounced him dead later on, speaks about what he found when he examined him on arrival.

When he's done the judge says he's ready to make his finding and another buzz echoes around the courtroom.

Edward grips my hand tightly and whether it was for my benefit or for his I couldn't be sure. We hadn't talked much about Jake's death since that first morning when we found out. There just wasn't much to say, at least on my side of it.

"I find that Jacob William Black died on or about the twelfth of this month in his private residence in the suburb of Bondi Beach, New South Wales, from respiratory depression and failure caused by the interaction of prescription medication and alcohol," the judge reads from the papers in front of him.

"I find that the emergency response reports support this finding. I find that the subsequent autopsy clearly supports this finding. I find that this death was not caused by negligence nor any other act of violence or carelessness.

"I find, using the medical history of the deceased as evidence, that this death shall be ruled intentional by way in which the prescription medications were obtained, and the manner in which the medications were clearly labelled with strict instructions that they shall not be ingested whilst under the influence of alcohol.

"I find that Jacob William Black was of sound mind and I can assume that he had a reasonable measure of intelligence regarding his personal health as to have known that mixing these substances would cause respiratory failure.

"The contents of the note found with the body at the time of discovery supports this finding.

"Therefore it is my finding that Jacob William Black committed suicide."

There is a hush in the room for just a moment and then we all heard the quiet sobbing of Jake's two sisters from the front row.

Edward squeezed my hand, Jared turned in our row and we all followed him out of the courtroom.

We were ushered quickly and quietly out of the building, the press braying for our comments as we went, and into the waiting car in the street opposite.

We drove home in silence, each of us thinking our own thoughts about what we'd learnt.

**Three months later**

**EPOV**

I sat nervously in a middle pew and watched Jasper marry Alice in a simple, traditional ceremony. My Isabella was as radiant as the bride, if not more so by my judgement.

My parents, who had become quite fond of Jasper and his bride, sat to my left - my mother dabbing at her yes throughout the ceremony, my father grinning inanely to himself the whole time.

My sister was to my right with Emmett beyond her and their two children perched quietly, for a change, beyond them.

Seth and Jared were in the pew behind us though there was now no need for them to be there for safety reasons. Today they were there as the guests of the bride and groom, and happy to be so.

In the months since I'd held my press conference my life had settled into an enjoyable rhythm that was not exactly free from press scrutiny, but significantly less so than it had been.

We were no longer hounded as we came and went at our home although whenever we went out in the evenings pictures of our outing invariably ended up in the newspaper. Though they didn't make the front pages these days and were usually relegated to the society pages.

Happily we were now old hat.

My name still found its way into the business section but as yet a replacement thorn in my side hadn't emerged since Jake's demise. I had no doubt that the League, and other organisations like it, were just biding their time until I made my next 'big deal'.

I stood with the rest of the congregation after the preacher had announced the happy couple husband and wife and clapped heartily as Alice and Jasper came back down the aisle now married.

I winked at my Isabella as she passed by on the arm of Jasper's best man and my new friend Peter. His wife Charlotte followed Isabella down the aisle on the arm of another groomsman and I saw her throw a smile at me as she passed by.

Almost everyone knew what I was planning tonight, except the gorgeous creature who was acting as Alice' chief bridesmaid. I watched her leave the church, waited until the parents of the bride and groom had exited their row and then marched along behind a hundred other guests until I too was outside in the bright summer sunshine.

I'd known I wouldn't have a lot of time with her today. But that gave me the chance to view her from afar, and that was never a bad thing as I watched her laugh and joke with Alice as the bridal party lined up for the first of probably a thousand photos.

"You look happy," my mother cooed beside me as the rest of my family joined me off to the side.

"I am," I say truthfully. "Aren't they stunning?" I ask, tossing my head in the direction of the happy couple.

"They are," she agreed, "one of them in particular."

"She's a beautiful bride," I agree as I take my phone out of my pocket and snap one or two shots of my own.

"She will be," my mother whispers before wandering off to talk to Rosie who was wrestling with Liam.

I have to laugh at the comment, which makes Isabella turn her head and search the crowd for me. She finds me, her smile radiant, and I smile back.

She holds her posy of flowers a little higher when the photographer asks her to but as the picture is taken she's not looking at him, she's staring at me.

"You've got it sooo bad," Emmett chuckles, elongating the syllables like a child.

"You did too, I remember," I remind him.

"Still do," he shrugs, "you're sister is still smokin' hot."

"Not something that needs to be shared," I tell him for the thousandth time. "Who's having the dirt creatures while you're at the reception?" I ask, nodding towards my niece and nephew, the latter of who was now shovelling handfuls of dirt into his mouth while Rosalie's attention is turned.

"My parents," he shouts as he runs off towards them. "Liam no!" he bellows as the little monster grabs another good handful of dirt.

"That'll be you one day soon, I hope," my father chuckles as he nudges me.

"God I hope so," I sigh.

"Never thought I'd hear you agree with that," he laughs. "But then, you didn't know Isabella Swan before."

"No, I certainly did not," I agree. "You want a ride to the reception?" I ask.

"That's what I was coming over here to ask," he laughs, "I don't think your mother would appreciate arriving at the banquet hall covered in dirt."

"Probably not," I laugh. "Seth's driving and the cars in that side street," I say, pointing to my BMW.

"Will there be room?"

"Jared's got the Mercedes, he's tailing the limousines," I tell him as I watch Isabella scoop up the bottom hem of her dress and point her pink painted toes with the other bridesmaids for another photo.

"Is that still necessary?" he asks quietly.

"Look at her," I tell him, nodding towards Isabella who is now attending to Alice' veil for the next set of pictures.

"I see her, but what am I missing?" he asks. "Is there a threat around here?" he asks as he turns in a tight circle, looking around at the crowd.

"No, there's no specific threat," I chuckle.

"Protecting what's yours," he nods when he gets my meaning, "good man," he says as he claps me on the back and goes to stand with my mother.

I went back to watching Isabella but my ogling was interrupted by a tap on my forearm.

"Hi," said the black haired woman as I turned. "I'm Makenna, Alice' cousin, aren't you Edward Cullen?" she simpers as she holds her hand out for me to shake.

**BPOV**

"Stop hissing," Alice giggled, nudging me with her elbow. "He'll tell her to piss off soon, you watch," she said, sounding pretty sure.

"He better," I say, nudging her back.

I smile when the photographer tells me to but the instant he's taken the shot I let the scowl reform on my face. "Who is she?" I whisper to Alice as we all switch places to set up for the next shot.

I watch as Edward shakes her hand, then removes her other hand from his arm with a scowl. That's my boy, I think to myself as I watch.

"That's Makenna," Alice says quickly before we both have to smile for the camera again.

The woman's still gabbling away to him but he's clearly not interested. He's turned slightly, so that his shoulder is facing her more than his face is, and I smile just a little more brightly for that picture than I had the last.

"_That's_ Makenna?" I ask through gritted teeth while we all switch out again. "But I thought she was plain, or morbidly obese, or something. Didn't you tell me she was plain?"

While the photographer moves everyone about I keep one eye on Edward. He's still smiling, but not at her, I note with amusement. I catch his eye and raise my eyebrows. He mouths something to me but I can't quite make it out, it looked a little like 'help' and as the photographer takes his shot I worry that I'm laughing my head off instead of smiling demurely.

The photographer announces he's got enough shots for now and those of us in the bridal party all sigh as one, happy to be released, even if it's only for a little while.

"I said she was boring," Alice told me with a giggle before she was whisked away with Jasper.

**EPOV**

"You're fucking perfect," I growl into the creamy white flesh of her throat.

"And you're going to get us both shot," she giggles, tugging on my hair.

She probably thinks it'll make me stop, but she wrong, dead wrong, and I growl a little louder before sucking her earlobe into my mouth.

"My father is stalking over here," she says with a mighty tug.

_That_ got my attention!

My lips let her go, my hands let her go and I spring away from her so fast I've made my own head spin.

I turn, trying to see which way he's going to come at me from, but I see nothing and nobody. "You're evil," I hiss playfully when I look back at her.

"And you're so chaste," she scoffs as she smoothes down her dress. "We can't do this here," she's saying as she straightens the chignon in her hair. "Someone will bust us and I for one do not want it to be my father. Or yours," she says with a dramatic shudder.

I'd dragged her into a dimly lit corner of a corridor between the reception room and the attached kitchen with the view to molesting her just a little, but I could understand why she didn't want to be caught. I didn't either. Especially not by Charlie Swan who I'd only been physically introduced to that morning.

I had spoken to him several times in the last months and every time I set the handset back in its cradle I shuddered. He was the most intimidating man I'd never met, and now that I _had_ met him my opinion of him didn't change one iota!

I ran a hand through my hair and for a change it wasn't a 'tell', my hair was just a mess from her wicked little fingers. I pulled those fingers to my lips and kissed them reverently before tugging on them and taking her with me back into the reception room.

We stopped to talk to Peter and Charlotte for a little bit and then moved onto the table where my parents were sitting talking to Alice' parents. I helped Isabella into a seat and then took the one beside her.

The men were talking about what they were each going to do in their retirement, the women about grandchildren.

Neither subject enticed me all that much so I sat quietly, watching others in the room having a good time.

There were a few couples dancing slowly, a few small groups who had pulled chairs away from other tables now that the formal part of the evening was over. Those groups were all steadily drinking and all talking animatedly.

Alice and Jasper were making the rounds of the tables, stopping to accept congratulations and to have their picture taken with the occupants now and then.

The older people in the room were looking rather haggard after a long day and were probably looking forward to a good night's sleep. One elderly gentleman had cut his losses and was slumped in his seat snoring happily.

The younger set, the teenagers – probably cousins if Alice' family was anything like mine there were plenty of them – were stealthily knocking back the remnants from abandoned drinks as they moved through the tables.

Several women were gathered around the table of gifts ooh-ing and ahh-ing over china patterns and linens.

Seth was talking with a group of men, Jared with a group of women.

The tap on my shoulder made me jump.

"A word," Charlie Swan said in his gravelly voice, cocking his head towards the doors that lead to the covered seating area outside.

He strode away, not waiting for my acceptance of his 'request', though it was hardly worded politely. I stood, bent down to whisper into Isabella's ear that I would be back in a few minutes and then excused myself from the others at the table.

Seth clocked me leaving the room, raised an eyebrow at me and when I mouthed 'Charlie' to him he grinned then laughed. Disloyal bastard.

He was leaning against a railing when I joined him. "Lovely ceremony," I said to break the ice. "You must be very proud."

"I am. Of both of them," he says simply as he turns to face me. His face isn't showing pride, however. He looks uneasy, almost upset.

"What is it?" I ask, my heart skipping a beat.

He eyes me carefully then nods out into the dark night. Again he doesn't wait for my agreement and just strides away. I look back towards the reception room and wish I can call for Seth, but in the end I follow.

Something was eating the guy and if it had anything to do with Isabella I wanted to know what that was.

He stops at the back fence line of the property, again leaning on the railing of a fence, and staring out into, well, nothing. Just the inky black night.

He takes a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, taps it with the heel of his hand and offers one to me. It's my turn to eye him carefully before I accept what's he's offering. I wait until he's lit his and then lean forward to light mine at the proffered flame.

He draws deeply then sighs.

"I've never seen her smile so much," he says quietly. I have no comment, not until I know whether I've been drawn out here to be lynched or not, so I stay quiet.

We stand there, staring out into nothing, for a little bit. The air between us is uneasy, the silence deafening.

"What's going on?" I ask eventually, when I can stand his silence no more.

"Bell's told you I was a cop once, right?" he asks, but doesn't turn to look at me.

"Yes," is all I can say.

"Retiring on a cop's pension was never going to be enough," he says sadly.

"Okay," I reply. If he needed money that would account for his unease but I didn't want to offer until I knew for sure.

"At first I was happy to sit around doing not much of anything," he tells me. "But that gets old pretty fast," he chuckles, "and there is only so much fishing a guy can handle." He draws deeply on his cigarette and then turns so that he's facing the reception centre, his ass leaning on the railing. "About three years ago a mate of mine, ex cop too and a good one, turned in his uniform and went to do a desk job at the Anti Terror Commission," he says evenly though very quietly, as if it's a big secret we have to keep.

"Okay," I say, turning like he did until my ass is on that railing too.

"Every now and then he needs someone to do some leg work," he says before taking another long drag, the embers on the end of his cigarette glowing red in the dark. "Before I know it I'm freelancing for the Commission. You learn all sorts of things just from reading the background reports sent to you.

"For instance, I've been asked to check a guy out, no names," he says pointedly and I nod even though I don't think he can see me do it in the dark. "This guy is selling, let's say he's selling wool, yeah wool works," he says to himself. "So this guy wants to sell wool overseas and the guy he's selling this wool to runs a company that makes clothing. Sweaters and shit.

"Sweaters are no threat to anyone, neither is the wool, so I can't figure out why I've been asked to check this guy out. I remember, from a couple of months ago, that this same guy, the one who's selling the wool, tried to set up a deal to sell his wool in another country and there was a big hoo-ha about some director of the buying company being a bit of a, um, let's say he was a bit anti-sheep," he laughs.

"Yeah, anti-sheep," I agree, catching on that he means me and is referring to the Asia deal.

"Right, you get it," he says. "Anyhow, the wool selling guy, the first deal turned out to be perfectly legitimate so when this new deal was red flagged I wondered what the big deal was this time, you know?

"So I check into it and I don't see much wrong with him selling his wool to this new buyer. The new buyer makes socks, not sweaters, but still, socks aren't a threat to anyone so I wonder again why I'm being asked to check him out.

"Turns out, the buyer, the sock maker, has just won a big contract to supply these socks to the military in his own country. Nuclear socks are a threat to some people and I'd hate to see the wool seller be associated with another scandal like he was before, even though, like I said, that first deal was perfectly legitimate right from the off."

"Fucking hell," I mutter darkly.

"Yeah," Charlie mumbles just as darkly. "Poor wool seller can't take a trick, can he?"

"It's stoppable though," I tell him straight up. "The wool seller hasn't signed a damn thing yet."

"Lucky wool seller," he whistles.

"Unlucky wool seller's wool brokerage team though," I hiss, thinking already about all the ways I was going to tear strips off whoever missed this nugget of information in their research.

"Plenty of sheep in the sea though," he chuckles and I can't help but laugh too. "Business isn't exactly slow for this wool seller."

"No, it's not. Plenty of people want to buy his wool," I agree with a smug grin to myself. "Maybe the wool seller should stick to selling his wool in his own country from now on?" I muse.

"Maybe," he agrees as he stamps out the butt of his cigarette.

"Does she know this is what you do?" I ask, while I've got the chance.

"Nope," he says matter of factly. "She thinks I fish and watch sports on TV."

"Does Jasper?"

"Same."

"Is it dangerous?" I ask.

"Sometimes," he replies. "Depends who I've been asked to check out."

"The wool sellers got nothing to hide," I add quickly.

"I know, I checked," he chuckles.

"I would've too," I admit. "Is it still okay with you, you know?" I ask, nodding towards the reception room as we begin the walk back up.

"Yeah," he sighs, "It's alright with me." I breathe a sigh of relief and he chuckles as we reach the doors. "One more thing," he says as I reach for the handle. "I've been dating your Aunt Sue for the past four years and she's afraid to tell your mother."

"Jesus Christ," I mutter as he chuckles and ducks inside, leaving me standing there, mouth open, wondering how the hell that happened.

**BPOV**

"Everything alright?" I ask my dad as he comes back into the room.

"Never better," he says as he kisses me on the cheek awkwardly. "He's a good guy," he says as he moves away and joins the table where Alice and Jasper are sitting talking.

Edward comes back in hot on his heels but he looks less than okay. "What's going on?" I ask as he comes to me.

He stares down at me a second and then his game face is slid expertly into place. "Your dad is a very interesting guy," he tells me with raised eyebrows.

"Okay," I say, elongating the syllables because my dad was anything but interesting. "If you're into fishing and sports I guess he is."

"Have I told you how utterly magnificent you look?" he asks as he takes my hand.

"About a hundred times today," I giggle, feeling the blush creep up my cheeks.

"Well you are," he says firmly as he brings my hand to his lips.

I tug his hand and try to lead him back to the table with Peter and Charlotte but he doesn't budge. Instead he tugs my hand, bringing me back to his side. I catch him glance at the table where his parents are sitting and then to the one where my dad was now forehead to forehead with one of my cousins.

When he looks down at me he's grinning and I wonder why, wonder what I've missed.

"I saw you once," he whispers as he lowers his mouth to my ear. "I saw you standing outside, all alone, dancing in the moonlight."

I shiver at his words and the warm breath he's allowing to slide across my ear. "At the fun fair I saw you dancing again and I knew I couldn't let the chance pass a second time to hold you," he whispers softly before kissing me just below my ear. "Dance with me, Isabella," he murmurs softly, making me shiver again.

"Yes," I say softly and simply.

He takes my hand and we move to the dance floor. There are other couples all swaying gently and he takes us to the back of the floor, tugs until I'm in the position he needs me in and then he pulls me up against his chest.

The music is soft, something classical that I can't name but remember from somewhere else, another function perhaps.

I stare up at him, the version of him that I love most. The sweet, gentle man who loves me just as I love him. I know he does, though we've never said the actual words before. It's in everything that he does, everything that he says and in every gesture he makes with me near.

I slide my hand that's on his shoulder to the base of his neck and he sighs dreamily.

His fingers press into the small of my back more firmly and I echo his sigh.

"The first time we danced you felt like a new beginning in my arms," he tells me as we turn. "I'd never felt that before and I never want to feel it with anyone else ever again."

"You felt right," I tell him simply, "because you are right for me."

"And you are so right for me," he agrees with a small smile. "I love you, Isabella," he whispers and tears instantly spring to my eyes.

"I love you too, Edward," I tell him sincerely.

"I think I have since that first waltz," he whispers before kissing me softly on the cheek.

"I think I fell in love with you the first time you apologised to me," I whisper back.

"And then you slapped me," he chuckles lowly into my ear.

"And you forgave me," I whisper.

"Always," he says simply as he pulls away a little and swings me away from himself.

As I swing back in he's grinning and removing his free hand from his jacket pocket and then we're not dancing anymore. We're just standing in the centre of the dance floor, at my brother's wedding, staring at one another after declaring our love for the first time.

"I want to love you always," he tells me as he stares down at me. "I want to protect you always, make you happy always, give you everything you need, always," he whispers as he lowers his forehead to mine. "Isabella Swan, would you do me the extraordinary honour of becoming my wife?"

I'm stunned. Standing stock still, in the middle of swirling couples as they dance around us, with my mouth hanging open, lost for words.

He pulls away and I want to claw at him to come back, to ask me again because I don't believe that I heard him right the first time.

But he does pull away. He takes a step back, bringing his hand up between us and its then I realise I had heard him correctly because he's holding a ring.

"Marry me?" he asks simply as I stare down at the gold and diamonds in his palm.

I look back up, into his eyes, and they're shining just like I think mine are.

"Yes," I say simply. "Yes, I'll marry you."

He slides the ring home on my finger and before I've had a chance to even look at it myself he's kissing me. Deeply, long and slow right there on the dance floor.

At my brother's wedding.

While we waltz.

And he's perfect.

For me.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading. **

**This sort of feels finished, but sort of doesn't. **

**If there is anything I've missed, or not tidied up (and I am aware that everyone is going to want to know what became of Tanya) please drop me a line and I'll have a crack at giving you those snippets too. **

**As for Tanya, I haven't actually been able to decide what becomes of her. It would be too neat, too easy, to have her die alone, starving in a flea bitten motel on the Gold Coast with no money...and however satisfying that might be to write, it doesn't feel right. **

**So I've left things where they stand and hope that you've enjoyed this little tale. **

**Please review, or drop me a PM. **


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I've had a few requests for more and a lot for a glimpse at Edward as a daddy. **

**I hope you like it. **

* * *

**Two years, four months and eight days after proposing**

**EPOV**

"I hate you!" my beautiful wife hissed at me through gritted teeth.

"I love you so much, baby," I crooned against her forehead as I tried to keep in the forefront of my mind all the advice I'd been given to date.

"Get away from me!" she seethed, swatting at my arms like a flailing..well, she was flailing.

I put my hands up in supplication and took a small step away.

Those normally serene chocolate brown eyes glared at me from under heavy, bruised lids. "I'll never forgive you for this," she whimpered as the crease in her brow deepened and she bit down on her bottom lip.

"I'll never be able to thank you enough for this," I whisper as the nurse gives me a cautious nod. I step back up to the side of the bed and slide a hand over my wife's.

"It hurts," she's crying and I feel the sting of tears spring to my eyes too.

"I know, I know," I'm telling her but I've got no fucking clue what she's going through and everyone in the room knows it.

"I'm sorry for yelling," she rasps as she throws her head back and rests between the contractions.

Her mood swings had grown in ferocity as the pregnancy had progressed but nothing I'd read, and nothing anyone else had told me, had prepared me for the whiplash of delivery.

"You yell all you want," I tell her as I take the plastic cup with the ice chips in it from the rolling tray.

"I'm sorry I'm whining," she sobs as she sucks on the ice.

"Not much longer now, Bella," the nurse says as she lets the long strip of paper go from the monitoring machine. "They're only a minute and a half apart now so I'll go and find the doctor and we'll check to see how many centimetres you are."

When the nurse has left and we're alone again I test the waters a little. "I'll go and give the family a quick report after the next one," I say cautiously.

"Thank you," she whispers and I let go of my held breath.

The last time I'd suggested stepping out of the room she'd accused me of failing her in her hour of need. She'd screamed, ranted and raved about me not loving her enough to want to stand by her through labour. She'd hissed and snarled at me, swatted my hands away when I'd tried to defend myself against her claims and then she'd promptly burst into tears and told me I was the love of her life, that she couldn't live without me and that I was going to make the best father the world had ever seen.

I couldn't keep up, but I was trying my best.

So when she agreed to let me leave the room after the next contraction I was relieved, and a little grateful.

It had been seven and a half hours of pure hell for me so far, which of course was nothing compared to what she was going through. But I needed a break. I needed coffee. I needed a smoke if I was being honest. And I needed fresh air.

When the beeping of the monitor picked up speed again I let her grip my forearm and tried not to wince as she squeezed.

"Breathe baby," I croon as she gasps for oxygen. "That's it, that's it," I say ineffectually.

She's quiet through this one, no screaming and no obscenities, and I figure that she's either too exhausted to scream through it or she'd given up hating me for getting her pregnant for a bit.

When she's lying back on the pillows again I give her the cup of ice and wait for her to hand it back when she's done. "Send Alice in," she groans as she tries to roll over just a little.

"I will," I tell her as I kiss her forehead again. "I won't be long, I promise."

She waves me away with a weak swish of her hand and closes her eyes. I slink out of the room and the instant the door is closed at my back I let out the breath I'd been holding and rub my scalp.

Then I'm rushing down the corridor to find Alice. My balls had been threatened enough for one day and I didn't like the idea of my wife being alone either, so I rushed.

"How is she?" the chorus all asked at once as I turned the corner and came face to face with our entire family.

"Doing okay," I manage to get out. "They're getting really close now," I tell the gathering. "She's asking for you, Alice."

"Aunty Alice is on!" she squeals and takes off down the same corridor I'd just come down.

My mother pushes my hair off my face and gives me a soft smile. I know she wants to go in there but this is Isabella's train and she's driving it. What she wants she gets.

"I'll get you a coffee," she tells me with a pat to my cheek and ducks down another corridor that I know leads to the cafeteria.

Rosie follows closely on her heels after wishing me good luck.

I'm left with a waiting room full of men who all look like they'd rather be anywhere else. Except for my dad who is beaming and her dad who looks like he'd like to murder me.

"Thanks for staying," I mumble as I collapse into the nearest chair. "I know it's late."

Charlie checks his watch and grins. "She's got a ways to go to catch up to her mother so far," he chuckles.

I don't want to know how long it took to bring my wife into the world because if he said it took three days, or two whole days then an emergency caesarean like every other horror story I'd heard, I was going to scream like a little bitch. So I kept my mouth firmly shut.

"Anyone have a cigarette?" I ask after a full minute's silence.

My father huffs his disapproval, Jasper shakes his head, Seth tuts, Emmett looks as though he'd like a sneaky one too and Charlie, the wonderful man, throws me a half a pack along with his lighter.

"I'll be outside," I mumble after thanking him.

I sneak out the back entrance of the ground floor and find a quiet spot on the street, well away from the actual building like the sign suggests, and light up. I draw the smoke in deeply, letting it work its way into my lungs and back out again at its own pace.

I feel calm for the first time in thirty-nine weeks.

I know it'll be fleeting, that the hard work had only just begun, but for a minute or two as I stood there I felt as though I was going to be alright.

"First one?" a voice asks behind me.

I turn and see another guy lighting up. He looks just as rough as I feel.

"First one?" I ask, not understanding the question.

"First baby," he chuckles.

"Yeah, first one," I admit. "You?" I ask as he tucks his lighter into his jeans pocket.

"Fourth," he grimaces.

"Jesus," I mumble.

"Tell me about it," he laughs. "Our youngest is eight, we thought we were done. And then we went away for our anniversary and here we are, again," he sighs.

I want to remind him that contraception works just as well when on holidays as it does at home but I don't like the idea of watching my son or daughter being born through a swollen shut black eye, so once again I keep my mouth shut.

We stand in silence for a minute, enjoying the nicotine and then I spot a guy striding towards us, camera aimed and ready. He's calling my name, his stride quickening as he approaches.

"Fucking hell," I mutter as I stamp out the still unsmoked half of my cigarette.

"What's he want?" the other guy asks.

"To ruin my fucking life," I hiss. "Good luck with your baby," I tell him as I start jogging back up towards the building.

I hear the journalist interrogating my smoking partner and cringe. I go back up in the lift to Isabella's floor and nod to Seth to join me in the corridor.

"What's up, kid?" he asks.

"There's a journalist outside, hassling other dads," I tell him with a sigh.

"They can't come up here," he tells me, which I already know. "Em's ready to release the statement as soon as you're ready, so just stay out of sight and let it go," he tells me with a slap to the back. "You're doing great, kid."

"I'm useless," I admit sadly.

"Yep, you are in this," he chuckles.

I tell him a sarcastic thanks and head back towards Isabella's room. Alice is holding her hand while my wife grits her teeth and moans through another contraction.

"She's nine centimetres," Alice informs me as I go to the other side of the bed and take my wife's hand into mine.

"And doing great," I say against her forehead, because really there's nothing else I can say. Or at least there's nothing else I'm willing to say before I know what mood she's in now.

"I'll leave you to it," Alice says right away and I give her a grateful smile.

She waddles to the door, her own baby bump more than three quarters of the way 'cooked' now too. She throws Isabella a wave and then disappears to join the others.

My wife had been very, very clear about how she wanted her birth experience to go. Nobody was going to see her 'gina', as she liked to call it, other than me, the doctor and the nurses.

She wasn't having any drugs despite the obvious agony she was in.

She wanted just me by her side, the family could come and meet our son or daughter after, and apart from one or two short visits from Alice and Jasper while I ducked out to use the bathroom or get something to eat or drink she didn't want anyone else in the room with us.

And most frustratingly she refused to find out the sex of the baby before the birth.

We'd argued about it for months, pretty much since the twenty week scan when the ultrasound technician said she could tell and asked if we wanted to know.

I'd said yes immediately, my wife said no just as quickly.

We'd fought about it ever since.

But, as I'd promised on the day I'd married her, it was my job to give her everything she wanted and needed. And she wanted it to be a surprise. So it had to be a surprise for me too.

And now that the day had arrived I was terrified.

"Don't scowl," she whispers as she sits up and grunts through the next contraction. "I'm just as scared as you are," she pants as the monitor beside her starts freaking out again.

"I'm not scared," I lie as I wipe her down with the wet cloth.

"Liar," she hisses before collapsing back onto the pillows again.

"I've never lied to you and I don't plan to start now," I lie, again, ten seconds after lying the first time.

"Oh god," she moans as the next contraction starts, hot on the heels of the last. "Ow, ow, ow," she's hissing as she sits right up and clutches at her stomach. "I think I need to push," she barks.

I slap the bright red button on the wall above her bed and try not to pass out.

Within seconds the rooms full. The doctors at the foot end of the bed, snapping on gloves and staring up under the sheet that covers my wife's lower half. There's a nurse reading the print out on the monitor and another one spreading out a surgical sheet over a plastic coated rubber mat.

"Okay, Bella," the doctor says calmly once he resurfaces from 'down under', "The baby's head is crowning, that's the pressure you're feeling, so when the next contraction starts I want you to sit up and put your chin to your chest and bear down."

"Edward," she's sobbing as she's clutching at my forearm. "I can't do this," she's whimpering and I don't have any idea what to say or do.

"You can," I say as her hand starts squeezing mine, the monitor going nuts again as the contraction hits. "Come on," I tell her as I slide my hand up her back and help her to sit up.

"Chin to chest," the nurse reminds her.

She's grunting and cursing, panting hard and then a long, drawn out whine as she pushes.

"That's it," the doctor coos, "just like that. Now rest," he says as he reaches for a handful of swabs from a nearby trolley. "Lots of nice dark hair," he winks up at us before he ducks his head back down.

I want to slot him until I realise he's talking about the baby's hair colour, not Isabella's.

"This time we'll count to ten as you bear down," he says as the machine's rhythmic ping starts getting quicker.

I count with the nurses. A slow, steady progression from one to ten as the doctor encourages her to push harder.

Tears are leaking out the corners of her eyes as she flops back onto the pillows the next time. I wipe them away with my thumbs, kiss her and tell her I love her and then she's contracting again and the doctor is warning us that this will be the second to last push.

There's a distinct swoosh of fluids and then the doctor is asking me to join him.

"You're cutting the cord right dad?" he asks as a nurse hands me a long handled pair of scissors.

I don't get to tell him I'm scared to do it because the monitor is announcing the next contraction before Isabella has registered it herself.

"That's it," the doctors saying as I look down and see the dark hair of my child between my wife's legs. "One last, big push Bella," he encourages and I watch, in sick fascination, as my baby's shoulders slip out, quickly followed by its little body.

Isabella grunts and moans, probably in relief, and I'm struck dumb.

"Cut here," the nurse is telling me as she cradles the little body in its sheet.

I look down, mechanically cut between the two peg like clips on the cord, and then the baby is whisked away to the trolley.

"Is it okay?" I ask, in a voice that doesn't sound anything like my own.

And then we hear it. The soft, kittenish mewl.

**BPOV**

I watch as the baby is rubbed and rubbed, making it cry a little harder each time.

"Is it okay?" he asks again, right after I do.

"Perfect," the nurse says as she wraps it tightly in the sheet and brings it to me. I take the bundle from her as Edward comes to the side of the bed.

She steps away, quickly, and we're left there, looking down at the tiny bundle in the sheet.

The doctor is still at the end of the bed and I can feel him tugging and pulling, but there's no pain.

The baby is covered in the thick, milky sheen we'd read about but it's beautiful. All pink and warm and soft. It's mewling softly, its little face all squished up as it tries to come to terms with its new environment.

Edward's leaning over, smiling smugly and cooing softly to the wriggling little person we'd made together.

"I love you," he whispers as he kisses my forehead. "I love you too," he whispers as he kisses the baby's head.

I can feel myself crying but I can't take my eyes, or my hands, off the baby long enough to mop myself up. "I love you too," I tell him, trying to smile around the tears.

"I'll be back soon," the doctor announces as he leaves but neither of us acknowledge him.

We'd planned things like this. We'd planned that we'd wait until we were alone to discover whether we had a son or a daughter. Well, I'd insisted and Edward had caved.

When the room was finally empty I put the baby on my thighs and looked up into the glistening eyes of my husband. "Ready?" I ask.

"Ready," he agrees.

I pull the sheet away carefully and gasp when he does.

"Thank you," he mumbles as his tears spill over.

"You're so welcome," I tell him as I rewrap the whimpering baby.

**EPOV**

I stride out into the waiting room like a guy who's just won some cosmic lottery.

Everyone there gets to their feet as I make my entrance.

"It's a girl!" I crow. "We have a daughter!"

I'm mobbed then. My mother's sobbing, Charlie doesn't look too far behind and my father is already handing out cigars. Seth waits his turn then hugs me hard, telling me congratulations before he steps aside and starts texting god only knew who.

Rosie is mopping up tears as she hugs me, Alice is freaking out because she's having a girl too and they'll be able to grow up and play dolls together. Jasper is rolling his eyes at his wife and clapping me on the back all at the same time.

Emmett is grinning from ear to ear, his dimples on show and for a change I don't dread those little ripples at all.

"Congrats, bro," he booms as he folds me into a tight hug.

"How's Bella?" Charlie asks as he swipes at his eyes quickly.

"Just fine," I tell him proudly. "The doctors in with her now for a bit but you can all come in and meet our daughter soon."

"Does she have a name yet?" Rosie asks me as she slips her arm around my waist.

"She does," I grin. "Let Isabella tell you though."

While we wait for the doctor to finish up I'm bombarded with questions.

How much does she weigh?

Does she have hair? What colour?

What colour eyes?

How long is she?

I've never felt anything like it, telling my friends and family that my daughter was beautiful, that she was seven and a half pounds and had her mother's dark hair.

They were all enraptured, hanging off my every word, and I soaked up their adulation proudly.

It's not long and a nurse comes and tells us we can go back in.

Charlie and my parents are the first to meet her. They coo and swoon, well Charlie doesn't swoon but he does coo, which is a little weird.

"Will you tell us her name?" my mother asks quietly as she takes the baby from her mother's arms for her first cuddle.

Isabella smiles up at me and I nod.

"We've decided to call her Elizabeth Anne," my beautiful wife whispers.

"Oh darling," my mother cries when she realises we've called our daughter after her mother, my grandmother. "She'd have been so proud," she sobs.

"Anne was my mother's name," Charlie says very quietly, off to the side. "Thank you," he says as he comes to me, his hand outstretched. "She's beautiful."

"I know, and you're welcome," I tell him sincerely as I shake his hand.

There's a knock at the door and Jasper sticks his head in. "Um, can Alice come in real quick?" he asks with a grimace.

I laugh, I can't help it. "She can't wait any longer, huh?" I chuckle.

"Not exactly," he says sheepishly. "Her water just broke and they want to take her to her own room."

"Oh god," Charlie moans.

"Send her in," Isabella giggles.


End file.
